


Querencia

by nikuy



Series: Flor de Loto [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Domestic, F/M, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 78,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikuy/pseuds/nikuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“In bullfighting there is a term called querencia. The querencia is the spot in the ring to which the bull returns. Each bull has a different querencia, but as the bullfight continues, and the animal becomes more threatened, it returns more and more often to his spot.</p>
  <p>As he returns to his querencia, he becomes more predictable. And so, in the end, the matador is able to kill the bull because instead of trying something new, the bull returns to what is familiar. His comfort zone.”</p>
</blockquote>- Carly Fiorina
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Madrid

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about bullfighting and I'm relying 90% on the internet for information and such.

“Hey, Mes, wake up.”

 

“Uh…huh? What?”

 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Sami chuckled as he pat the younger boy’s longish hair gently, “We’re almost there.”

 

Groggily Mesut rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hand. He snuggled more into his blanket, but something was weird. His body aches and the air was way too cold for his liking. He blinked a few times and remembered where he was. He sat up right next to Sami, his older cousin, who was taking him to Spain on his long break and they were sitting in the passenger seats on a plane. He couldn’t believe he actually forgot about that.

 

He remembered begging for permission from his mummy and daddy to stay with at Sami’s house in Madrid the whole holiday. It was a long break, he thought, and all of his schoolmates went somewhere in the country or even abroad. Thomas actually went to Amsterdam this time and there was no way his parents would allow him to tag along, but with his adult and responsible cousin, of course they melted easily.

 

“Uh…what time is it, Sami?” he was still nervous; it felt like he had slept for too long.

 

“It’s almost 11, I can’t believe you’re still capable to sleep on such a short flight!” the older man laughed and earned a slight hit on his side.

 

“Well, I couldn’t get much sleep last night, I was a little nervous, okay?” he pouted a bit.

 

“You mean you were nervous and talked with Thomas all night, bombarding him about how excited you are to be able to go with big bro Sami?” he chuckled and Mesut couldn’t reply to that.

 

“Shutup.” He mumbled sleepily and turned his gaze to the window pane. He could see the land already—unlike German, the cloud was thinner below him. He could see the foreign shape of the reddish, green land below and spotted some water ways he had never seen before. Everything looked and even felt foreign for him. He couldn’t believe that he really is in Spain. He sighed and moved to get up, “Move aside, Sami, I gotta’ pee.”

 

“We’re almost landing, Mes.”

 

“There’s still time!” the boy pouted, but suddenly there was a chime and the aircraft’s pleasant voice filled the air.

 

“ _Ladies and gentlemen, in a few minutes we will be landing. For your own convenience, please do not leave your seat. Keep your seatbelt and the window lid open. Thank you_.”

 

Sami laughed at the disbelief that was written all over his cousin’s face. “It’s not fair!”

 

“Sit down, Mes.” The older man giggled—Mesut could’ve sworn that Sami  _fucking_  giggled.

 

Frowning, the boy sat back down and buckled his seatbelt, “Why is it always like this?”

 

“I told you to go to the toilet after the take-off.”

 

“But I was sleepy.” He mumbled.

 

Sami couldn’t hold the urge to ruffle the boy’s hair any longer with a smile, “Shut up now, you’re such a baby.”

 

*

 

Mesut really couldn’t stop observing his new surroundings with his mouth agape; everything was so different in Madrid. Even the airport was colorful. He liked Barajas already, the people were friendly even in the airport and they could mostly speak in English. He was proud of the fact that he didn’t get lost on his way back to Starbucks (where Sami was waiting) from the toilet. It felt different from his other trips abroad; his parents used to get themselves a guide or joined a tour group which wasn’t fun at all for Mesut.

 

They took a cab from the airport; Sami said it wouldn’t take too long. Mesut almost pressed his face to the window along the way as he watched people and the buildings, the colors are bright and there were things he had never seen before. He felt like a ten year old all over again, so giddy and excited. He overheard Sami speaking to his wife on the phone, saying that they’d be there soon. Mesut remembered Lena when she hadn’t married Sami; she was an amazingly talented international model. He almost couldn’t believe that she’d let her career and fame go to be with Sami at all.

 

Sami told him that Lena was now working on her own designs. She worked from home which Sami preferred better. He spoke so many things about his wife that Mesut didn’t realize how fast the time flew, their taxi stopped and Sami told Mesut to get his stuffs before paying the cab-driver. Mesut mounted both baggage out of the car and glanced at the house they were stopping in front of.

 

It was nothing like his expectation from a Spanish house; he expected to see a ranch and a huge, three-storey house with a large garden, a gardener, at least a maid, and a fountain, but Sami’s was nothing like that. It was a simple, homey-looking 2 stores white house with white fences, a large enough front garden inhabited by flowers with various color, a small pond with a cherub sitting on its rocky edge, and flowerpots hanging by the terrace. It wasn’t fancy, he knew Sami could afford fancy, but it looked really beautiful.

 

“What are you gaping at, huh?” Sami flicked his cousin’s forehead.

 

“Ouch,” Mesut rubbed the reddening spot on his forehead, “Nothing. Your house is…gorgeous.”

 

“Wow. I should thank to Lena then.” He grinned as he opened the turnstile with a small creak, “I was pretty persistent about using yellow paint back then.”

 

Mesut chuckled, “You’ll blow the house.” He followed the older man a little nervously. He hadn’t seen Lena since their wedding, he never got the right moment to learn more about the girl because she used to be so busy and she went with Sami right after the wedding. He was still pondering at the bottom stair to the terrace, but before Sami could even reach the terrace, a beautiful blonde woman bursted out from the front door with a wide smile and gleaming eyes.

 

“Sami!” She exclaimed as she jumped into Sami’s arms and startled him with a kiss, “Welcome home, honey!” she hugged the taller man so tightly but rather than getting grossed out, Mesut somewhat thought it was pretty adorable.

 

“Hey, precious.” He smiled all so lovingly at his wife which made Mesut blush, he had never seen such an expression from him before. “You do remember Mesut, right?”

 

It was like his cue to smile awkwardly at Lena, “Hello-“

 

“Oh, baby Mesut! Welcome!” she quickly ran towards the younger boy and wrapped her slender arms around him tightly. Mesut both blushed and winced at the power those thin arms got, “You’re so tall now! The last time I met you, you were only this tall.” she leveled her shoulder with her hand, smiling ever so widely.

 

The boy could only smile shyly, this was the Lena he remembered; the happy-go-lucky, ever so energetic and elegant girl he met a few years ago when he was still in middle school. Suddenly Lena clasped her hands with a gasp, “Oh, you must be tired and hungry! Come in, come in! And would you like to eat or rest first? Oh my god, you’re so thin,  _Schatzi_! You should eat more! Ah Sami,  _liebling_ , show him his room, please? I gotta’ check the the _paella_. You like seafood, dear? And  _tapas_? How do you feel about creamy desserts afterwards?”

 

“Lena,” Sami sighed with a thin smile and his wife turned a look at him, “Just go.”

 

“Oh, yeah, right, he’s tired. Okay.” She stuck out her tongue cutely before dashing into the kitchen.

 

Sami took Mesut upstairs and showed a room Lena prepared for him beforehand. The room wasn’t as spacious as Mesut’s, but just enough for him alone. He actually noticed how the light-blue walls were clean and seemed to be scrubbed often. There was a fluffy single bed with frilly cover, decorated with teddy some stuffed animals, and a huge window next to it. Mesut blinked.

 

“Sami…what’s this…”

 

“Oh, just remove them into the closet, you’ll be fine.” The older man quickly replied, but Mesut was still amazed. He took one stuffed-animal that looked like a pink duck and turned a look at his older cousin.

 

“Why do you have so many of these?”

 

“Ah, never mind that.” hurriedly the older man took the stuffed animal from Mesut and shoved it with the rest of them into the nearest closet, “Lena’s niece. She stays once in a while.”

 

“Not a good argument, Sami!” the young Turk laughed, “You two are planning to have children, aren’t you?”

 

Sami turned impossibly red and avoided his cousin’s look. “Go get some sleep before Lena bothers you again. I’m uh…I’ll be downstairs.” He walked to the door, but glanced momentarily, “You can use the bathroom in the hallway, btw. Come downstairs afterwards.” Before Mesut could make a reply for that, Sami already left the room.

 

The Turkish sighed contently as he sat down on the bed and laid back. It was so comfy. He couldn’t believe that his cousin was actually already planned up to this length. He really turned into a grown-up, he thought. He rolled on the bed with a sigh as he blinked for a few times. It was really comfy. He knew he should at least change first before he could get comfy and all, but his eyelids dropped and he fell asleep through the day.

 

*

 

“ _Schatzi_ , eat your more of your  _taco_. You’re so thin!” Lena rolled another  _taco_  with lots of beef for Mesut and placed it on the boy’s half-empty plate. She was grinning so happily watching the boy eating and it was the third  _taco_ for this morning. The Turk wasn’t used to have such a heavy meal in the morning; he even barely had his breakfast back in Berlin every single morning, but the happy look on the pretty blonde’s face made it impossible for him to say no.

 

“Sure, Lena.” He sheepishly smiled. It was amazing how energetic Lena seemed to be after spending two hours cleaning in the kitchen this morning and it was only 8.

 

Sami descended the staircase wand walked towards the dining table, kissing his wife briefly on her cheek before joining them on the table. “You must’ve been feeding him a whole cow again.”

 

“No, I am not!” Lena pouted, “I’m actually excited to hear that you’re tagging along, Mes, dear. I just mastered some more recipes recently and this guy here,” she nudged Sami, “Has learnt his way to avoid my cooking.” She sighed dramatically.

 

“It’s not that,  _mija_ , but you  _do_  know that I have to keep myself in shape.” Calmly the older man took an untouched piece of  _taco_  from Mesut’s plate and took a bite.

 

“Hey!” Lena nudged him again.

 

“He’s had enough,  _mein Liebling_ , you’ve practically shoved the whole supermarket down his throat last night.”

 

Lena was about to say something, but quickly Mesut added, “I’m good, Lena. I love your cooking, by the way, they’re fantastic.” The boy smiled at her genuinely. He sure loved the cooking so much, but if he ate any more than this, he might burst.

 

“Aww, thank you,  _Schatzi_.” The beauty queen of the house ruffled Mesut’s hair, “Wow, such soft hair you got there. Do you want anything else, Mes? Milk?” Mesut was about to refuse, but she was quicker to get up, “Milk it is then. Black coffee, dear?” She turned to Sami who only nodded in response, “Okay. I’ll get some  _churros_  too, they’re still hot.” She then skipped her steps towards the kitchen, humming happily.

 

Mesut watched her with a quirk of an eyebrow before he threw a look at his cousin who hid behind his newspaper. “Don’t even ask, Mes, please.”

 

The boy only grinned and continued to nibble on his  _taco_. Suddenly, he heard the front door opened and he heard a cheerful (if not shrill) voice.

 

“ _¿Buenos días, señora_  Khedira???”

 

Sami made a quick reply, “ _Entra, tía_!” He replied calmly as he flipped the pages of his paper, “Lena  _está en la cocina_.”

 

Mesut blinked. A few seconds later a middle-aged woman walked into the dining area from the front. Mesut noticed the distinctive Spanish look on her, the kind of nice-aunty you’d find as one of the protagonists in  _telenovela._ She smiled widely at Sami who smiled at her. “ _Buenos días_ , mister Khedira!”

 

“ _Buenos días_ ,  _tia_. You sure look beautiful too today.” Sami smiled fondly at her.

 

“Oh, you’re always like that, mister.” She laughed and suddenly set her eyes on Mesut who shrunk in an instance. “¡  _Oh, Que niño tan lindo! Buenos días, tio. ¿Quien es él_ , mister Khedira?” her eyes gleamed as she looked at Mesut.

 

“He’s my cousin,  _tia_. His name is Mesut.” Swiftly the older man switched his language as he turned to Mesut, “This is Mrs. Catalina, Mes. She’s here on weekdays to help around. Just call her  _tia_.”

 

“Er…” Mesut smiled nervously, “I’m not sure I’d be able to communicate with her at all…”

 

“Greet her. Say, ‘ _buenos días_ ,  _tia_ ’.”

 

“Uh,” the boy turned to the old lady who smiled expectantly and stuttered, “ _B-buenos días_ , _tia_ …” his accent sounded awful, but it seemed to please Mrs. Catalina.

 

“ _Bebé inteligente, muy inteligente_! I’ll talk to you boys later, alright?  _Vea usted_ , May-soot.” She shuffled into the kitchen and Mesut could hear Lena’s excited chatter in Spanish from there. He shuddered.

 

“Where would you like to go today, Mes?” Sami asked, “I’m free for the whole week, at least I’d like to show you around so you can go yourself then.”

 

“Hmmm…I don’t know. Surprise me.” The boy shrugged.

 

Sami pondered for a while. He hadn’t thought of anything just yet, “Hmmm…how about visiting some traditional markets, they’re still open until 10 AM, and a lunch at this cool restaurant I know—you’ll get fat staying here, eating with Lena everyday—and then I’ll take you to a bullfight.”

 

Mesut blinked. “Bullfight? Seriously?”

 

“Yeah. So you’ll get a material to write your holiday assignment.” The older man shrugged.

 

“I’m not a 5th grader anymore. But…the bulls always get killed, right?” the younger boy bit his lower lip worriedly. He was slightly squeamish, and from what he saw on TV, the matador would kill the bull with a sword. He winced at the thought.

 

“You’re talking like a little boy now,” Sami chuckled, “A friend of mine is actually one of the matadors and he’s pretty good I think. He gave me a lifetime access to watch his shows, never showed up before, why not now that you’re here?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“It’d be good. Okay, been there once, not that creepy actually, it’s beautiful in a way.”

 

Mesut pouted a little as he looked at his cousin intently and shrugged, “Whatever.”

 

*

 

Mesut stood near an empty gate, waiting for Sami who went to talk to the guard of  _Plaza de toros_  about their seats. He put on his earphones and listened to his iPod, his cousin was taking a bit long. He had been telling four touts “ _no habla_ ” for the past fifteen minutes and it was quite unsettling for him. Thomas used to show him some gory stuff before he decided to put it to an end with a brawl in tears. He remembered one of Thomas’ favorite movies; it was about a group of highschoolers who went to a foreign Europe country only to get themselves dismembered one by one by an organ-selling organization. He shivered though it was kind of warm day.

 

He tried not to make an eye contact with anyone passing by, why would Sami leave him alone anyway? But he kept on telling himself that he could take care of himself, he was almost seventeen, and of course he could. He kept his eyes attached to his iPod screen most of the time that he didn’t notice a man who strode quickly in his direction and he almost let out a high-pitched scream when he ran into him. The iPod fell out of his hand and clattered on the ground.

 

Mesut gasped and turned a glare at the intruder of his peace who hurriedly bent down to take it from the ground with a loud, “ _Lo siento_!”

 

When the man stood back up again, the boy couldn’t help but to cringe a bit. He was dressed way too suspicious in a bright daytime. He got a pair of shades on, that was okay, but why would someone wear a long trench coat with the collar turned upright and a pair of black, leather boots in this kind of weather? Mesut bit his lip and his face paled a bit, could he be someone from teenager-organ-dealer-organization?

 

“ _lo siento, no te ví_.” He chuckled and turned to the teenager after checking on the iPod, “ _¿Estás bien_?”

 

Mesut stared at him in horror, but out of blue, he replied, “ _N-no habla_.”

 

The stranger made a small ‘oh’ and pondered a little before he asked, “Er…English then?”

 

“Uh. A little.” Mesut really wanted to smack himself now, why was he chatting with a suspicious stranger in the middle of nowhere?

 

“Okay. I’m sorry about the iPod, there’s nothing wrong with it, I guess.” He grinned and he checked on the buttons and flipped through the tracks, “Okay…wow, you listen to a lot of techno. Gotta’ try Flamenco, seriously.” His Spanish accent was thick, but friendly if the boy wasn’t too freaked out of how weird he looked. “Here.” The man gave it back to him and he carefully took it, “It’s a little scratched, I’m very sorry, I’ll get you a new one if you want. Just contact me.” He took his wallet out and gave out his card which the boy took, “I’m very sorry, but I gotta’ dash.” He smiled for the last time and continued to walk.

 

Mesut blinked and looked at the man’s broad back, pondering. What was wrong with people in this city? He didn’t even want to check the card and simply threw it away, wishing for Sami to quickly get him and waited there while trying to make himself invisible.

 

A few moment later Sami returned with two tickets, “It was hard to assure the guards but I met my friend at the gate, so he talked it out for us… _why the hell are you sitting on the ground_?” the older man looked at his cousin who shrunk himself in a corner of the gate, looking torn between sheepish and scared.

 

“I…uh…there was a really… _weird_  guy…” he tried to sound nonchalant as he said that, but his voice was cracking. Sami shook his head with a sigh. He offered his hand and pulled the younger boy up with one pull.

 

“I’m sorry, Mes, shouldn’t have left you.”

 

“It’s okay.” The boy shrugged, “Maybe I won’t give this place a second chance anytime soon.” He tried to chuckle.

 

“Yeah, there are just a lot of weirdos around here.”

 

\- TBC


	2. Eso fue rápido.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter (and terrible, I must say). I need a beta-reader, my friend is currently busy so no one to ask for help. :'(

*

 

Sami sure knew his way around here; soon they found themselves being led to a nice spot which looked like for reservation-only seats. There weren’t too many people except a middle-aged man in suit with who seemed to be his wife, dressed so finely only to watch a massacre. It made Mesut feel uneasy, though, wearing only his comfy gray shirt, baggy jeans, Nike shoes, and his stupid hair that keeps on flying to all directions at the slightest blow of wind. He sat next to Sami, fidgeting restlessly as he saw that the tribune was packed with people.

 

It was almost impossible to hear Sami spoke to him if he didn’t lean closer and practically _yelled_ right into his ear, “It’s gonna’ be a big match, they said. They’re expecting to see two bulls get killed.”

 

The younger one made a face, “Awful,” he said, “How is this gonna’ work?”

 

“A _torero_ —the right term for matador—got two assistants. After the _torero_ makes his appearance, the bull will be presented.” Sami explained, “The assistants will check the bull’s condition while the _torero_ is present and practically they’ll provoke the bull by, well, stabbing it with a sword or two.”

 

At that, the boy went paler than he already was.

 

“Listen,” the older one grinned at his cousin’s reaction, “I know how it sounds, but you won’t regret it. Later on the _torero_ would deal with the provoked bull using his cape. There’ll be two bulls for one _torero_ and the spectators will become the judges of their performance.”

 

“What’ll happen to the bulls after that…?”

 

Sami shrugged, “They’ll be taken to classy steak restaurants.”

 

Mesut gulped, “You’re joking.”

 

The older man chuckled, “I am not.”

 

Mesut wanted to ask more, but a loud, sudden sound of tuba from the orchestra set right below of their seats. He had to press his palms against his ears as the orchestra played a cheerful, heroic tune and the spectators cheered so much louder. He was getting a little dizzy, but he tried to keep his eyes on the pitch.

 

The gate right across his tribune was opened and he saw 3 men walked out, one of them is dressed spectacularly. The boy couldn’t help himself and lean forward to take a better look; the man was wearing what seemed to be a traditional suit embroided with gold which made it looked heavy. Mesut was no expert in clothing, but he knew one or two things about sports; as if it was to compensate the top attribute, the tights the man was wearing looked absolutely aerodynamic. He was fully accessorized from bottom to top, even with a hat, but suddenly he couldn’t pay attention to the suit no more.

 

It was a fine specimen of a man inside that festive of a suit. His skin was quite tan, shoulders broad, and Mesut blushed as he realized he could actually see the definition of his muscles through the tights. The dress was too flamboyant for someone who deals with angry bulls for a living; however the man does look dangerous somehow. His hair was brown and sleek, there was no smile on his face. His dark eyes were sharp and steady, Mesut could sense strong determination from him. It was quite surprising when the man suddenly turned his gaze _right_ to where he was sitting.

 

The boy let out a small gasp and blinked. He could see the man’s eyes better, it was dark and curious as they looked at each other for a mere second before the man broke the eye contact. Mesut looked down to his feet, flushed a little as he tried to comprehend the situation. What was that?

 

“Look,” Sami startled him with a nudge, “There comes the bull!”

 

Once again Mesut leaned forwards and he saw a real huge bull coming out from another gate. It was a real giant, maybe five times as big as himself and its ivory horns looked rather pointy and huge as well. The boy winced at that, he couldn’t believe that he was no longer worried about the bull.

 

“Sami, were there… _torero_ ’s who got killed during the show?”

 

“There are some.” He replied _way_ too casually for his cousin’s liking, “But this guy is pretty good, I heard. Though it’d be fun to see a butcher getting slaughtered, no?” the older man chuckled at his own joke which left the younger man with a terrible terror.

 

When he decided to take a look, the assistants were already sheathed their swords on each side of the bull. The second assistant took his time because the bull turned out to be an aggressive one, it had almost rammed the first one as he sheathed his sword, but luckily the other one was quick enough and they hurriedly fled to safety, leaving the arena for the matador and the bull. The animal was making sounds and started to move wildly around until the matador swiftly took the cape off of his shoulders and waved it around a bit. It caught the bull’s attention and there was an intense glaring contest for a moment.

 

The crowd cheered, provoking the bull in Spanish and any other language there is while the matador flicked his cape, still maintaining his composure alright. Mesut didn’t make any sound even though the old couple not far from his seat was cheering. He felt a weird sensation in his stomach as if something is trying to make its way out and holding it back caused him to sweat. This was far too intense, but he had to watch. He didn’t know why, but he should be able to handle this. His gastritis shouldn’t be a problem to handle, it wasn’t that bad.

 

The bull bent a little lower, its hot breath wasn’t visibly puffing out like ones in cartoons, but it sure looked angry. It positioned its hind legs apart and treaded the dry ground, it was preparing its first attack and everyone was expectant. The matador seemed to be unnerved and flicked his cape once again. As if it was a cue, the bull suddenly raced in his direction and the cheer was even louder than the ones before, but still, Mesut didn’t move or even make any sound. He gaped as he noticed how fast the bull and how still the matador was. It was almost like watching someone committing suicide, he felt his heart beat faster but he could do nothing but to watch.

 

Only when the ladies started to scream, the matador made an unbelievably swift movement, letting the bull to run through his cape as he elegantly waltzed to the other side with a swirl. It took more than a second for everyone to realize what was going on and maybe slower for Mesut. He could’ve sworn that he almost coughed out his heart as the sudden roar of the crowd exploded and he just realized that the bull stopped itself from hitting the nearest wall before it took a quick turn to face its opponent.

 

The animal bellowed angrily and once again preparing for its next attack, seemingly unaware of its own blood dripping on the ground. The matador waved his cape up and expanded it, flashing the velvety crimson material to the angry creature that rapidly ran towards him again. This time the man only took one step and wafted the cape just a few inches above the bull that once again missed him. The audience cheered louder and Mesut actually jumped out of his seat only to clap. It was fantastic. How could someone do that?

 

Sami looked a little perplexed at the sudden excitement the younger one showed and smiled toothily, “I thought you chickened out beforehand.” He said, half-yelled.

 

“But he’s amazing, Sami!” the boy turned a look at his cousin, his cheeks flushed and his smile was wide.

 

“Yeah, okay, maybe he’s not that bad.” The older man only chuckled.

 

*

 

Sami had to practically drag his cousin out of the _Plaza el toro_ after four hours non-stop bullfighting. As he thought before, Mesut would like it; only he liked it way too much. He kept on chattering about the matador’s moves, the huge bulls, and the beautiful crowd excitedly. The older man remembered the first time he snuck his cousin out of the house at weekdays to see Jan Delay’s concert; he was ranting unstoppably. This boy was always the passive one, sometimes Sami hoped that he’d stay like that but maybe hanging around with that Müller boy wasn’t a good idea after all.

 

“To think that you were against the idea of bull-slaughter at first is kinda’ funny.” Sami said out of blue as they walked out of the plaza, catching his cousin’s attention.

 

“Oh, yes…the bull-slaughter…” the boy scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “It sure is, uh, bad. But I guess that some certain matadors could pull it well.” He flushed a little at his own remark, “He’s a particularly good one, isn’t he, Sami?”

 

“Yeah, you can say that…” the older man sighed as he walked behind his cousin. He suddenly stopped his track as his phone rang and Mesut turned to him. He picked up, “Hello? Ah, _es usted. Que_?” Mesut sighed and walked closer to him though he didn’t really pay attention; he didn’t understand any word he was saying anyway. His cousin was talking fast and his face looked uninterested, but he finally said something that the younger one could understand, “Okay, okay. See you.” He hanged up and sent daggers at the screen of his phone, “This _puta_.”

 

“What is it?” Mesut asked.

 

“That matador, the one that we watched just then, asked us to join him to dinner.” He mumbled as he pressed the buttons of his phone quickly, totally unaware of those gleams in Mesut’s eyes as he looked up at him, “He wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer, he’s pretty persistent and won’t stop breathing down my neck if I refused anyway.”

 

“R-really? That guy we just watched?” He couldn’t hide his smile.

 

“Yeah. At least he knows some good places to be around here. Let’s go back inside.”

 

Mesut followed him with bouncy steps; they went through some people and took different turns to where the securities were guarding some doors. They reached the second floor where there were doors on each side of an isle with names engraved on each door. There was one with a security standing in front of it. Sami greeted him in Spanish and the security opened the door for them, nodding at both of them.

 

The first thing that Mesut saw was a topless, brown-haired man sitting on a table while with a towel around his strong neck. The boy was perplexed; was it the matador? He looked so much better up-close.

 

“Sami!” the Spaniard exclaimed cheerfully and got up from the table.

 

Sami rolled his eyes, “ _Dios_ , put your shirt on, Ramos.” He shook the man’s offered hand though he was scowling.

 

Ramos’ eyes quickly set on Mesut who looked at him in awe and was surprised that he was found out. The matador smiled at him, “Hey, I don’t know that you know Sami!” he cheerfully greeted as he converted into English just as quickly and excitedly shook the boy’s hand, “I’m Sergio, and you are…?”

 

“Ah,” Mesut mouthed, “M-Mesut Özil. Nice to meet you.”

 

“I saw you sitting at the tribune, do you like the show, _amigo_? Oh, I’m sorry about the iPod by the way.”

 

Sami looked at Mesut strangely and the boy shrugged, though he still remember the moment when Sergio looked at him in the stadium. “How do you know my cousin again?” Sami asked.

 

“I ran into him before the game, before I met you at the gate, remember?” Sergio laughed, “This is fantastic, little one.” The matador turned his attention back to the younger German, “I would’ve asked for your number if I wasn’t too rushed.” He winked.

 

Mesut bit his lower lip and looked away while Sami punched his friend at the shoulder, “You sneaky bastard. Stop teasing my cousin.”

 

“You’re always so stingy!” Sergio pouted. He took a clean satin shirt from the nearest table and a black Nike jacket to put them on, “I’ll tell the manager then we can leave, wait for a bit.”

 

*

 

Mesut fidgeted on his seat in the restaurant. He should’ve support his cousin’s idea on not coming, he felt somewhat out of place here, he felt like he should’ve dressed better. The restaurant Sergio brought them to was pretty classy; it was sort of dim but homey, almost like _la ratrattoria_ , but the different design on the carvings, patterns on the wall, and the hanging pot of wild flowers gave a different atmosphere. He didn’t feel comfortable coming there only in his old shirt and his slacks.

 

“What’s up, _cariňo_? You seem uncomfortable.” Sergio spoke to him with that thick accent of his.

 

Mesut smiled nervously, “N-nothing, really.” He locked his eyes to a floating candle in a class tube in the middle of the white clothed table and the varied cutlery on his side of the table. He regretted the moments he didn’t pay attention to table manner classes his mother used to rush him into going.

 

“Is this your first time in Madrid?” the matador asked again, now bending even further on the table.

 

“Um…yes.”

 

“How do you like Madrid so far?”

 

It was a little awkward, he always feels awkward around new people. “I haven’t seen…many places.” He gave out a nervous laugh, “But I enjoyed the bullfighting.”

 

“You hear that, Khedira?” the blonde man chuckled, “Even your cousin recognizes art once he sees one!”

 

Sami only sighed and shook his head, “I told you, it’s not the bullfighting, it’s you.” The handsome German leisurely said.

 

“¿ _Ah, le has dicho a Lena_?” Sergio switched into his mother language.

 

“Yeah. I called her.”

 

“How’s she doing?” Sergio smiled, “How’s the baby plan going, huh?”

 

“The fuck, Sergio, ¡ _cállate_!” Sami blushed a little and punched the man’s arm lightly.

 

Mesut looked at them quizzically; they spoke so fast he’d actually consider Sami as a Spaniard from now on. He wished he paid enough attention in his Spanish class, but all he could understand was ‘ _cállate_ ’; his teacher’s favorite word in class.

 

“You okay there, _May-soot_?” suddenly Sergio switched again with a chuckle.

 

“I’m good.” Mesut nodded. He could never get used to how the Spaniard pronounces his name, but at least he tried.

 

“I think you should learn basic Spanish, Mes.” Sami suddenly switched into German.

 

The younger one put up a defensive scowl, “ _Warum_?” he hated languages, to be honest, he hated any form of art study. He wouldn’t have put up with any if it wasn’t because of school.

 

“I won’t be able to take you out starting next week, remember? There are lots of frauds and bad guys out there.”

 

Mesut rolled his eyes. It was annoying whenever Sami starts to act as if he’d want to take over his mother’s place in her absence. He hadn’t found any comeback when suddenly Sergio jumped into the conversation.

 

“You guys, talking in a foreign language in my land, on my table, leaving me out. Rude.” He faked a pout and the young German just had to giggle while Sami threw him another dagger.

 

“My work will start next week so I won’t be able to accompany him in weekdays, so he has to learn some basics.” He muttered, “I don’t see why we should include you in this trivial matter, _seňor_ matador.” He failed to keep his face straight though and broke a small grin at his friend’s face.

 

“I don’t see why you thought you shouldn’t!” the matador beamed, “Three days from now would be my last performance, I could take him anywhere he wants; you know I’m not bluffing. Right, _May-soot_?” he hit the boy’s shoulder lightly with a wide smile of his.

 

Mesut smiled back and shrugged as he threw a look at his cousin. Hanging out with this cool matador? Why not, he thought. He already fancied this man a little bit more, he was like a whole different person outside the arena being all goofy like that. He thought Sergio was kind of cool, so maybe it’d be alright.

 

“Why not?” he replied.

 

The blonde man eyed Sami who looked a little troubled, but then Sergio added; “If you forget, _amigo_ , I speak Spanish fluently.”

 

“Damn it, Ramos!” the German brushed his long bangs back with a defeated sigh, “Alright, I trust you on that. Both of you.”

 

“That’s my man!” Sergio slapped Sami hard on his back with a laugh and turned to Mesut, “I’ll make the most exciting itinerary just for you, little guy, you wait and see.”

 

Mesut was expecting a pat on his head or shoulder at that, but when a hand landed on his knee under the table, he blinked for a few times before he looked at the matador. He was laughing and cheerfully chatting with his friend loudly about something in Spanish, but that hand was resting on the boy’s knee, gingerly stroking. He had no idea what was going on, it was unlike anything that had happened before, but surprisingly it only felt somewhat nice. He shrugged it off, maybe it was how things go in Madrid.

 

*

 

TBC


	3. Reading The Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t forget though that you’re not yet legal, so don’t do anything that might trouble you!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I'm such a lazy author, but either it's kudos, comment, or even the escalating number of hits, they've become my only motivation to write more (thank you so much, readers, you are all so lovely), so here is the 3rd chapter. I hope the progress of the story is not too quick (well, I think it is tbh). Anyway, please have more Serzil.

The mornings in Madrid were nice, Mesut thinks. Maybe it was the cool air, the fact that no one would yell at him from not getting up early, or it could be the mouth-watering smell of breakfast Lena was working on. He got up easily and scratched the back of his head. He knew he'd gain weight drastically staying here; he could see it from his tummy. His mummy would be pleased. Lazily, he reached for his training pants and hoodie. He didn't really care about his weight or shape, but a morning jog sounds good at the moment. He hadn't done that for the last few weeks and Sami could shut up about him being a baby; he remembered most places Sami showed him anyway.

Skipping down the staircase, he saw Lena on the dining table and smiled, "Guten morgen!"

"Morgen, Schatzi." She smiled back, "Where are you going?"

"Jogging. I won't be far, I'll just go around the block. Bye." He skipped to the front door and started to do some basic stretching. When he was stretching his neck from side-to-side, a car parked just outside and honked twice. He eyed the car quizzically; he recognized a sports car when he sees one. The driver's door swung open and a familiar man waved at him.

“Buenos días, May-soot!”

The boy flushed slightly and waved back as the man dressed in broken white jeans and dark green shirt opened the gate and walked closer, hair never unruly and eyes were hidden behind his costly shades. “B-buenos días, Sergio.” He pronounced clumsily.

“Huh,” Sergio stopped just right in front of him and took his shades off, “Not bad.” He grinned before he ruffled the younger one’s fluffy hair. “Where are you going? You look like you just got out from your bed.”

“Uh. Jog.” The German blushed deeper and regretted that he didn’t even bother to wash his face or to comb his hair, “What are you doing here so early?”

“What’re you gonna’ say if I’m here to see you?” he playfully winked.

Mesut felt like shrinking, he would never understand Spaniards’ sense of humor, but he pulled it off by chuckling bashfully, “Lena is preparing breakfast and Sami will be out soon. I’ll…go out for a while, I guess I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, little guy.” The older man smiled and went into the house.

Mesut watched until he closed the door and almost jumped off of the ground and he tried to comprehend what just happened. This ridiculously good-looking Spaniard just showed up in front of him early in the morning, looking ridiculously handsome and everything, tousling his hair with that ridiculously vibrant smile of his. He felt somewhat excited but he didn’t know why, he had experienced man crush before, on his own cousin nonetheless, but this was nothing like that. He didn’t blush from having Sami around him back then, his heart didn’t beat this fast.

It was an alien feeling. He tried not to think it over; maybe it was just because he thinks about it too much. He shook his head and took a deep breath and started to jog.

 

When he got back, the car was still on the same spot and his heart raced again. He was more self-conscious now that sweat was dripping down his chin, he must look like a mess, he thought, so he slipped in from the back door and sneaked into the house by the door Lena always leaves unlocked by the kitchen. He saw no one in the kitchen and on the dining table, but he heard voices from the living room that sounded like Lena laughing and Sergio and Sami spoke to each other a little louder. He sighed in relief and went upstairs to his room silently to grab clean clothes and his towel before he ran into the bathroom to take a shower.

It wasn’t too long until he finished and went back to his bedroom only to find Sergio Ramos on it, leaning onto the bedpost, earphones plugged to his ears as he was skipping through the tracks on Mesut’s iPod. He jumped back with a gasp at the sight, eyes wide as saucers.

“S-Sergio?”

The older man looked up from his iPod and smiled sweetly, “Hey, you’re back.” He unplugged one of the earphones. He looked like he was unaware at how he looks so out of place among Mesut’s stuffs and some remained stuffed animals the German found comfortable to lay on.

“Why are you here? Oh my god, it’s so messy, I’m sorry-“

“Hey, hey,” the older man sat up and chuckled, “Relax. When I used to stay overnight, I slept here and the mess you’ve made is not even half as bad as mine.” He shrugged and casually laid back on some piled stuffed animals. The younger boy couldn’t stop his train of thoughts at the sight and the information he just got; the Spaniard was flawless. He was almost sure that it was a mere man-crush until the older man patted the empty space next to him, “Come here, I little guy.”

There was nothing sensual or sexual about the invitation, but he couldn’t help the blush that crept on his cheeks. He fidgeted on his spot a little before he scooted towards the bed and sat down on it, towel on his head and covered most of his face.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen enough of Madrid, but how about visiting Sevilla with me next week?”

“What?” The German blurted out, swiftly setting his eyes on the older man.

“Just for a week, since Sami is working, he won’t be able to take you out, right?” the older man grinned, “Sami said it’s okay if it’s okay with you. The food is good, the weather would be nice too, and maybe I can teach you horse-riding.” He wriggled his eyebrows in a funny way.

Mesut stifled a laugh, “Horse-riding? Really?”

“I got a decent hacienda over there and a tiny ranch. Only a few horses, really, but they’re my pride, man.” He sounded somewhat nostalgic, “My niece might be tagging along too. She’s 6, but she’s real easy to deal with. What do you say?”

The younger boy bit his lower lip, looking down at his companion, “I’m not good with kids, to be honest…”

“Don’t worry, she can teach you some basic Spanish, and after Sevilla, we might be able to check out Ibiza. Just the two of us.”

There it goes again, the vulnerably conspicuous yet seemingly innocent invitation. Mesut felt like to run away or to laugh it off, but this time the older man looked and sounded serious. He didn’t know why or how to let the sudden intensity he was feeling to fade, so he just looked away and shrugged. “Do you mean we can go to Ibiza afterwards?” shyly he glanced at the older man.

“I got a boat.” Sergio faked a silly arrogant expression that made the boy laugh. He sat up and sighed, “I got a few weeks off and places I want to be. Why not taking you along? And you got an over-protective cousin to deal with, we can do the math just fine.”

The boy chuckled and removed the towel from his head, “I thought celebrities spend their holidays with hot chicks and pricey stuffs instead of taking a ‘kid’ on a roadtrip.”

“What if I liked taking a ‘kid’ on a roadtrip?” he leaned closer. Mesut gulped at their closeness and the way-too-casual replies from the older man, their shoulders were against each other’s. Sergio moved a little closer and smiled, “You smell like Lena.”

The boy pouted a little, “And that’s funny because?”

The Spaniard laughed and ruffled his damp hair, “It’s cute, not funny, Mesut.” He then moved to unplugged the remained earphone and got up from the bed, “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Mesut nodded though he was still somewhat felt enchanted. He loved the way Sergio ruffles his hair and the way he smiles. “Thanks, by the way. I’m looking forward to the trip.”

“Sure, little guy.” He chuckled and left the room.

Mesut was still looking at the same door after ten minutes, registering all the things he suddenly expected to come sooner.

*

“Mesut, are you sure you’re okay?” Sami asked worriedly.

“Huh?” the younger boy looked at his cousin quizzically as he munched on some beef, “What are you talking about? I’m great. Oh, thanks Lena!” he beamed as Lena placed some more grilled beef into his plate.

“You eat more than you usually do.” Sami pushed his empty plate aside.

“Isn’t that good, darling?” Lena said, “He eats like a kid his age should have! No wonder kids nowadays are tiny, curses to whoever that makes children so self-conscious about their body.” She pouted disapprovingly, “Do you want some dessert, Mesut? Sergio brought some really good cakes this morning.”

Mesut flushed at the mention of the older man’s name, “Sure, Lena, thank you.”

His cousin-in-law got up excitedly and bounced on her heels towards the kitchen. Sami was still watching him finishing up his food and when he finally pushed his plate aside, he lowered his voice a little. “It’s good that you eat a lot, but are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m alright, Sami. Don’t worry.” He smiled at his cousin.

“Well, I mean the last time you ate like that was when that Lira girl from your class agreed to come to the prom with you.” The younger boy almost choked on his drink and looked at his cousin in horror, “And after she moved away, you practically starved yourself to death as if it was the end of the world or something. As far as I know, you suck at dating.”

The boy felt like to drown himself into his glass of water, just if he could fit in it, but he did remember that. It happened when he was on the eleventh grade; there was this pretty girl, Lira, who he had a crush on for a year until he got the guts to ask her out. Only tragically, a week after prom night, the girl moved away to Italy. He did remember Sami took him to his favorite restaurants for a month to get him to eat (and it wasn’t very effective).

“I can assure you this is nothing like that.” He replied, but he felt like he was lying, “I’m no longer twelve.”

“You are sixteen.”

“And am going to be seventeen very soon.” He pursed his lips.

“And you speak like a toddler just now.”

“Now, now, boys.” Lena came back with some cakes and put the plates down in front of her husband and cousin-in-law, “No debating at dinnertime. Finish your desserts, okay?”

Mesut poked on his cake; a slice of tiramisu with a strong smell of coffee. It looked good, but he suddenly didn’t feel like to eat it. He was annoyed at what Sami just reminded him about, but he was more bothered at the fact that he couldn’t deny the similarity of the situation he was in. God, when did he turn into such a girl? Thinking over everything thoroughly and making assumptions. He really missed his best friend right now; though sometimes annoying, Thomas knows very well what to say in any kind of circumstance.

“Um I guess I’m going back to my room. Sorry, Lena.” He pushed the cake aside and got up from his seat.

“Why? The cake is very good, Schatzi, you can trust me on that.” The blonde girl eyed him worriedly.

“It’s okay; maybe I’ll eat it later. Goodnight, you two.” He smiled thinly and shuffled towards the staircase. He could hear Lena whispering in a scolding tone to her husband who whispered back in defense. He skipped his steps to his room and reached his charged phone on his way.

Quickly he dialed Thomas’ number and waited for a moment, and he heard it was picked up.

“Hullo??”

“Thomas!”

“Mes, what’s up? I was just about to call you. How’s Madrid, man?”

Mesut sighed and sat down on his bed, “Not bad, I guess. How’s Amsterdam?”

“Cool! Mario will take me to this hush brownies parlor he knows and we met some real cute chicks yesterday, we’ll meet them there!”

“That’s great.” Mesut almost wished he went with Thomas instead, he sounded like he had a great fun.

“Bro? What’s up?” Thomas asked, “You sound like you’re there for a funeral or something. Don’t you have fun at all?”

“Well,” the Turk laid down on his bad and sighed, “It’s cool, actually. Sami took me to a bullfight, Lena cooks great food every single day I might turn into a pig in no time, and-“

“Wait, wait. Bullfight? Matador? I’ve always wanted to see that!” Thomas exclaimed excitedly. “Is it really that bloody?”

The Turk cringed, “Bloody enough for me, but it’s cooler than the stories we’ve heard for sure.” He bit his lip as he remembered how Sergio looked the day he met him in his matador outfit and flushed a little, “The matador killed two giant bulls and Sami introduced me to him.”

“Wicked. I bet he’s like the Terminator or something.”

“Much on the contrary.” And the boy, once again, felt butterflies in his stomach to remember the details of Sergio’s naked torso. He was very-well shaped, tall, but not that big or that thick with enough muscle definitions and tattoos. Oh, god, tattoos. “He’s not that huge, but he’s like the expert, dunno’…” he shrugged bashfully.

There was a pause for a second or so before Thomas spoke, “Dude. You sound lovesick.”

The boy blinked, “W-what?”

“Don’t mind me, but I do recognize you when you’re having a man-crush. Definitely not like this one.” The other boy snickered teasingly, “So. You want to bang him or something?”

“Oh, fuck you, Thomas Müller!” Mesut scrambled away from his bed, flustered, “He’s a guy, goddammit!”

“What’s wrong with that, man?” Thomas blurted out, “I know you’re not homophobic, so what’s with the reaction?”

“I…” Mesut babbled, “I’ve never gone out with a guy, okay? And he’s so fucking good-looking, he could get any chick he wants anyway.”

“So what freaks you out, man?”

“…”

“It’s you. It’s fucking you. You’re the one who started it. You can’t freak out at what you started. Oh, wait until Miro finds out.”

“The fuck?! Don’t tell him!” the boy meekly protested.

“I knew it! You liked him! You were just way too much of a coward to ask him out until he graduated! And remember what happened after that? Another month of hunger strike. Damn it, man.” Thomas sounded a little annoyed and exasperated, “It’s okay if you’re not going to listen to me at all, I don’t care, but you do know what you gotta’ do. You can’t lie about that.”

“But Miro didn’t date guys…” silently Mesut whispered, being his usual stubborn self.

“He did, but not recently, he doesn’t.” Thomas sighed, “He got married two months ago and you refused to come, guess what I found? A bunch of weeping ex-boyfriends.” Mesut almost squeaked, “Don’t do that to yourself twice, man. It’d be dumb.”

“Uh.” He had no idea what to say anymore and let out his last defense, “I don’t think Sergio digs guys.”

“How did you know that? You asked him? No?” Thomas laughed at the other end, he could imagine the Turk’s pouting face, “Don’t start another season of Spanish soap opera, just try to find out. Do I have to ask Mario for you? I bet he got some real useful advices.”

“Noooo…!” Mesut rolled back to his bed and buried his face into a stuffed animal. There was a foreign scent on it; a strong, woody, kind-of-lemony fragrant. It smelt like Sergio. His bed smelt like Sergio. Sergio just laid there some hours ago and left his scent, as if to remind him that he was there, as if he was marking his area. The boy chewed on his lip hard; he couldn’t help to think about it. Did he really fall for the Spaniard? Was it just like another holiday fling? Maybe it was a holiday fling. Or maybe it was just a holiday fling that’d kill him if he didn’t get any. “Thomas…?” he called out.

“Yes.”

“Everything I said to you, they’re all assumptions. What freak me out are my assumptions.”

“Thank you, good god.” The other boy sounded relieved and he laughed, “Go for it if you think you should. Anyway, talk to you later, bro. Gotta’ catch the bus.”

“Play safe, asshole.”

“You too.”

He hanged up. He then rolled onto his bed and curled around the remained fragrance of Sergio, clutching onto one stuffed animal and took another deep breath. He devoured the strong, musky perfume and sighed in bliss. Maybe he liked the guy after all. But he couldn’t be too sure. He had to make sure, but how exactly?

*

It was Sami’s first day to work and Mesut decided to spend his day to be Lena’s guinea pig and help out around the house. He felt like going out to help on the groceries, but he couldn’t trust his instincts on calculating numbers in Spanish, so he tailed Lena instead and carried most of her groceries. She was an aggressive buyer, Mesut noticed, but she was also a darn good haggler in the traditional market. Needless to say, it was rather interesting to watch though he couldn’t comprehend most of her conversations with the sellers.

“Are you bored, Mesut, dear?” Lena turned to him after a long fight with a vegetable seller over the price of tomatoes.

“It’s quite entertaining, to be honest.” He chuckled, “How did you manage to learn the language, by the way? You almost sound like a native.”

“You get used to it first,” she smiled widely as she paid for the goods and took the paper bag, “Sergio was a lot of help regarding the language. He used to stay at our house for some time.”

“Oh.” He followed his cousin-in-law, pondering a little, “So. Sergio is like an old friend?”

“You can say that,” she shrugged, “I met him the first time when I moved here, but he seemed to be an old acquaintance of Sami’s.”

“From work?” they stopped in front of a traffic light.

“Nah. He mentioned something about ‘a guy I accidentally met when I went to prep school’. They weren’t friends back then, more like mortal enemies, he used to say.” She giggled cutely and turned to Mesut, “Why are you asking?”

The boy blinked, “Uh, no, just a, er, a little curious, I guess. Sami has never mentioned him before.”

“Really?” the girl laughed, “Don’t worry, he’s almost like a brother for Sami, if not he wouldn’t have trusted him to take you.” The light turned green and Lena reached Mesut’s wrist and tugged him along to cross the road.

“Uh…to take me?”

“The Sevilla trip. We’d like to take you to places, but as you see, Sami is busy and he won’t let me drive our SUV.” She rolled her eyes, “He was reluctant at first, but Sevilla really is a beautiful place and we’ve been at his hacienda once, it was amazing! You’ll love it.”

“R-reluctant?”

“But Sami hadn’t showed his consent for the Ibiza trip. You boys must love Ibiza once you go there. You know absolutely nothing about nightlife if you haven’t been there!”

“Wait, Lena,” he uttered, “Why didn’t Sami let us go straight away? After two weeks, I’ll turn seventeen; practically I’ll be an adult. Well—almost an adult.”

“Sami and his antics.” She huffed as they walked into their block, “Don’t tell him that I’m telling you; he mentioned something about Sergio being a big bad wolf he used to be when he spots someone he liked.” She snorted, “Can’t really blame him though. When he first came here, we had a fight, Sami and I, so he dated this Spanish girl, but then he met Sergio and the guy snatched her.” She opened the gate of their house and carried on, “That’s why they became enemies. It was stupid though because, anyway, he got me. How’s it not so much better?”

Mesut nodded with a smile and closed the gate with his foot, “Then they got along after that?”

“Nope. It became worse, I think.” Lena smiled nervously and placed her groceries down on the bench next to the front door, “He, well, he hit on me quite hard. I didn’t expect that, to be honest.” She chuckled as she took her keys out of her purse, “Spaniards are crazy when it comes to hitting on a girl. He had no sense of subtlety, which drove Sami crazy, so he took me to the court after a week and we got married.”

It really was a news for the boy who stood there, staring at her dumbfounded. He had never heard any of these things before.

“Anyway, Sergio stopped coming over, but after a few months, they met by coincidence and talked. They became good friends since then.” She pushed the door open with a funny expression, “Men.”

Mesut laughed and followed her inside. He went to the kitchen to place the groceries onto one counter and asked, “So Sami is reluctant because of that?”

“No,” Lena placed her paper bag and purse right next to the groceries Mesut carried before, “He’s paranoid. Sergio is a ladies’ man, you might have noticed,” she went to open the fridge and took out a carton of juice, “Not only ladies, to be honest, I’ve seen him with some guys before. Shortly, he’s afraid that he’ll make his move on you. Stupid isn’t it?” Lena pouted.

Had been Mesut drinking, he would’ve spurted out his drink. “W-what-why?” his eyes were wide and confused and embarrassed. Even his earlobes turned red.

“He’s just being paranoid, dear. Though I don’t find it wrong or anything.” She looked up at her cousin-in-law and patted his shoulder, “Don’t get me wrong, but if you two were, hypothetically speaking, to date, who he thinks he is to prevent it from happening?”

“Oh.” The boy was speechless. He didn’t know what to say anymore, he thought he heard enough information to get him sleepless all night. Lena offered him a glass of cold juice and he downed it in one go to cool down his head. It was too much. “Can I help you with anything else, Lena?”

“Everything’s good now, just go and take some rest. Maybe I’ll need you to try some new recipes later.” She ruffled his hair, “Wow. I think my shampoo does you good. You should get one later.”

“Okay.” Sheepishly he smiled and suddenly his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and walked out of the kitchen to check the caller ID. It was an unidentified number, but it was a Spanish number. Maybe it was Sami? He picked it up, “Hello?”

“Hi, Mesut, are you busy?”

The boy’s heart skipped a beat, “N-no, Sergio, what’s up?” he walked further into the living room, making sure that Lena wouldn’t hear him.

“I’m just wondering, would you like to go out tonight?”

“Huh?” he mumbled quizzically, “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” the older man chuckled, “I got no time to talk more with you yesterday, so I guess it’d be nice to take you somewhere.” Mesut’s ear felt so hot just from listening to his voice, was it like a date? Only one way to find out.

“I have to ask Sami first.” He replied, “Maybe he can drive me there-“

“No need, tio. I’ll pick you up and it’ll be my treat, okay?”

This started to sound a lot like a date. And he couldn’t feel more nervous. “B-but won’t Sami get mad?”

“He will, but I’ll take the full responsibility.” His smile was audible as he spoke, “Just tell Lena that I’ll take you out, I’ll get there around 7, okay? See you.”

“Ah-“ he was about to speak again, but Sergio hanged up. He stared at his phone for a while and glanced at the clock; it was still early. Sami did mention that he’d be back late for an event in his working place, maybe this would work just fine. He then crept back into the kitchen and saw Lena was already busy dicing some vegetables. He tried to look casual and grabbed his glass to refill it with some water.

“Lena, can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, Schatzi.” She replied casually as she removed the diced tomatoes into a bowl and started peeling on potatoes.

He shuffled nervously from counter to counter until he finally dragged a chair to sit next to Lena and watched her hands skillfully worked with the knife, “Sergio just called…can I go out tonight?”

The girl put the peeled potato into another bowl and glanced at him, “You’re talking in an incomplete sentence, dear.” She took another potato and started to peel the skin.

“I mean he called,” he cleared his throat, “And he asked me out tonight. Can I go with him?”

He caught a small smile playing on his cousin-in-law’s red lips, “Is it a date?”

“Of course it isn’t.” realization hit him late that he spoke too soon. Lena’s smile grew wider.

“Do you want to go?”

“Well…I do.”

“Then you go, Mes.” She chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sami. He’d be too tired anyway. Make sure you go back after 10 though, he usually slept at 10.” She winked.

Mesut smiled and he just had to bend closer to kiss the girl’s cheek, “Vielen Dank, Frau Khedira.” He beamed with a giddy grin and Lena smiled back at him. He hurriedly bounced away from the kitchen but he paused half-way the door when he heard his cousin-in-law calling his name.

“Don’t forget though that you’re not yet legal, so don’t do anything that might trouble you!” she reminded way too lightly that it made the boy’s face flush.

“I know, Lena.”

*


	4. Not-A-Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The older man did sound and look amused, but there was a trace of seriousness in his voice that the boy failed to miss. His lips parted open, but nothing came out, he was far too surprised at the Spaniard’s, frankly speaking, subtle yet blunt reaction. It did clear out something, but left the rest of the things blurred in the boy’s point of view. Would he risk it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posted. I'm sorry that it took so long. I'm not satisfied with how this one turned out, but I did try my best to focus more on Mesut's POV and his train of thoughts. *shrugs*
> 
> Enjoy.

The peeled apple fell off of his hands but he was careful enough not to cut himself. Lena laughed and took the knife from him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to teach you how to peel anything before not-a-date, dear.”

 

Mesut fidgeted on his seat as he placed his hands on his lap, lips curled downward apologetically as he watched the older girl continued peeling it off easily. He dressed well, Lena told him, and she even insisted to comb his hair for this not-a-date thing. It was already 7 PM and the boy grew restless. It was partly his cousin’s fault for giving him the tiramisu for his afternoon snack though. Lena was peeking into the oven when Mesut came into the kitchen for the thousandth time, asking if he could help with anything.

 

“You look dashing already, my baby, quit it.” He made a face that makes Lena smile. The boy insisted that it wouldn’t be a date and never would be, but he acted similarly with her only years ago. She could understand why would Sergio be interested in this kid, teenagers are interesting, but Mesut is different. He is always modest and shy, even Lena thinks those traits of his are irresistible. Sami had brought home something dangerous.

 

“I just…want to help.” The boy mumbled and it went ignored by the older girl. They heard something from the front door and Mesut’s ears perked while Lena quickly walked towards the sounds.

 

“ _Buenos noches_ , _guapo_!” he heard Lena’s voice and got up hesitantly to creep out of the kitchen.

 

“ _Bonita_ , you look gorgeous tonight.” He saw Sergio standing on the front door, kissing Lena’s cheek.

 

Even tonight, the matador looked gorgeous, he thought. He had a black leather jacket on, a white shirt underneath, dark leather belt around his waist, and black jeans. His hair was tied back loosely and he could see the man’s piercings on both ears. He just realized that he got similar piercings, only he thought that they look so much better on him. He only got his black set of earrings now, suddenly feeling out of place again. He scolded himself inwardly, reminding himself that there’s nothing to worry about and shuffled closer to them.

 

Sergio spotted him and smiled widely, “ _Hola_ , _tio_ ,” his voice turned softer as he eyed the timid boy on the doorway.

 

“Hi, Sergio.” He replied quietly and dragged his feet closer. He looked up at the taller man and smiled at the sight of that friendly smile on the Spaniard’s face.

 

“Are you ready to go?”

 

“Yeah. Sure.” He tailed the older man and gave Lena a peck on her cheek, “Bye, Lena.”

 

“Remember what I told you.” She winked and the boy flushed.

 

The boy followed Sergio out of the house, he spotted a car parked outside of the fence; a shiny black Audi S5. He blinked, it didn’t look all festive or anything, but it looked classy nonetheless; it fits someone like Sergio somehow. He let out a small sigh as he felt a hand pressed against his back, flat and reassuring. “What are you staring at, _tio_?” He shook his head and moved aside a little, but Sergio’s hand never left his back. It even moved to the back of his neck, resting there as if it was where it supposed to be. “Let’s go then, I bet you’re hungry.”

 

He chuckled to that and the Spaniard opened the passenger door for him.

 

*

 

He had went out for dinner once with Sergio, he had seen all his choices for dining atmosphere and even food, so it was a tad bit unexpected when the older man pulled over in a shady part of the town where Mesut couldn’t spot any restaurant nearby. He looked at Sergio quizzically as he unbuckled his seatbelt and his gaze met the Spaniard’s. “Come, _tio_ , what are you waiting for?”

 

Mesut followed his suit and opened his door to step out. It was a nice part of the town, he noticed, but he couldn’t spot any restaurant or even café, only old buildings that seemed to be centuries-old apartments and some museums, or maybe old palaces. Sergio called him again and he tailed behind the man, walking towards an old building with an old neon board hanging. There was a small staircase that leads to an underground door with an annoyingly bright neon hanging above their head. Back in Germany, this would be a good spot for a nightclub, but there was no bass sound the German could hear. Sergio opened the door and let him in first and he looked around in awe.

 

The walls inside were made of red bricks and absolutely decorative with combinations of bright colors that he guessed would be red, orange, and olive green (couldn’t be too sure under this dim light). There were antique paintings on them; he recognized some to be the copies of famous paintings he saw in local museums, pictures of kings, and one crystal chandelier just above the reception. There was a beautiful lady behind the reception, dressed in a white ruffled blouse and almost a skintight red knee-high skirt. She might be only a little older than Sergio and her face brightened at the sight of them and hurriedly rushed towards the matador.

 

“Sergio, _amor_! ¿ _Cómo estás_?” she excitedly—if not unabashedly—wrapped her thin arms around the matador and kissed his cheeks. Mesut made a face at the lady, trying to comprehend what was happening.

 

“Estefania, you’re looking good.” He kissed the woman back, unaware of the pout that suddenly formed on his companion’s face. “Is my table ready, _chiquita_?”

 

“It’s ready.” She pulled away just slightly and flicked her dark curls of hair before she spotted Mesut who looked uneasy with his hands in his pockets. “Ay, ay,” she smiled at the boy who only nodded in return, “¿ _Vuestra cita por esta noche_?” she turned her gaze back at her customer. Sergio only smiled for an answer and she looked at Mesut once again with a gaze that made the younger man feel even more uncomfortable, “He’s only a little kid. What are you thinking?”

 

“Hush, Estefania,” he placed a finger on the girl’s red painted lips, “Lead us to our table, if you’ll be so kind?”

 

She pouted a little before she shuffled on her feet, “ _Síganme_ , _muchachos_.” She swayed her hips as she walked in front of them, much to the German’s despise.

 

She brought them to a larger room where tables are arranged around a medium stage in the center of the room. From the ceiling, there hanged a much larger chandelier than the one in the first room, and there was a decorative hanging lamp above each table. Mesut was looking around in wonder until Sergio pointed a table in a rather private corner just below a painting of an ancient Spanish imperial member. He quickly went there and sat down. He was still looking around while Sergio chatted with the woman in quick Spanish. There were some other people just a few tables away from them, some old men on the closest table to the stage, and a small group on the other side of the stage.

 

“Mesut.”

 

“Y-yes?” the boy turned to his companion who looked at him amusedly.

 

“Do you want to check out the menu?”

 

Mesut looked down at the menu just under his arm, “Oh, right…” he opened it and read the food choices which he couldn’t understand any bit. He skipped to the main course, dessert, until he finally gave up and looked up at the older man, “Mineral water, please. I trust you for the rest.”

 

“Are you sure?” The older man chuckled, “No pork if it can be helped, right?”

 

Mesut only nodded sheepishly and watched Sergio chatting some more with the beautiful (and somehow annoying) lady while the woman scribbled down on her notepad. She nodded and finally excused herself to Sergio and looked momentarily at the German, who didn’t realize he was being stared at. She casually patted the boy’s shoulder and sighed quiet loudly, making the boy blinked at her as she walked away. Mesut was still puzzled and turned to the Spaniard.

 

“What was that?”

 

“She’s just jealous, I guess.” Sergio snickered, “Slept with her once, she hoped for more.” He shrugged.

 

The boy blushed a little, “Hmm…anyway, you come here often?” he glanced at the older man.

 

“Let me guess; another expectation of a celebrity just ruined again?” the other one grinned. Mesut shook his head embarrassedly, trying to explain, but Sergio cut him, “I do, actually, come here a lot. I’m a huge fan of flamenco and this is one of the best places to see one in Madrid. The food’s great too and they serve a good homemade _queimeda_.”

 

“What is that?” the boy asked curiously.

 

“You’ll try that too, if you want.” He smiled.

 

Mesut nodded silently and looked down, tracing the attractive pattern of the tablecloth, “Uh, why are you taking me out again?”

 

“I told you I want to know more about you, Mesut Özil.” The older man crossed his arms on the table, leaning forward a little bit, “Sami mentioned you a lot, but I’d like to know you firsthand.”

 

Mesut chuckled shyly, “I believe there’s not much to tell, and if Sami did, there goes my lifetime biography.” He shrugged.

 

“But I see you so much more than that,” the Spaniard replied, his voice calm with a tinge of seriousness, “You’re no longer that boy who listens obediently to his cousin, no? You know what you want and how to get them.” He exaggerated the last bits a little, but enough to catch the boy’s attention. “You’re here.”

 

“I…am.” Hesitantly he replied. He felt as if Sergio was looking at him through his skin, penetrating him with his dark gaze and casual—overly casual smile. It was unfair that he should be the one who feels intimidated here.

 

“Okay. You can ask me questions if you’ll answer mine.” The older man finally said, leaning back onto his seat. “You can ask me anything.”

 

“Anything?” Mesut eased a little, “Anything at all?” the Spaniard nodded. The boy smiled with relief for the first time since they got here and wondered what he should ask to test the water, “How many siblings do you have?”

 

“A brother, Rene, and a lovely sister, Miriam.” He replied, “Rene is my agent too, by the way.”

 

“Really? Dad tried to act like an agent for me when I was younger, sending me to these baby-model castings. It didn’t work well.” Mesut innocently blurted out, earning an amused grin from his companion, “I mean…I thought it’ll never work working with your family, you know.”

 

“I thought so too at first, but Rene is only getting better and better at it, I can’t say anything against that.” He laughed a little before he supported his chin with a hand on the table, “Now tell me, do you have siblings?”

 

“Oh, yes. Nese, an older sister, Mutlu, an older brother, and-“ he stopped abruptly as a waiter approached their table and said something unintelligible in Spanish. Sergio answered him and he placed down a tall glass of beer and a bottle of mineral water on the table. They both mumbled an incoherent ‘gracias’ before the Spaniard set his eyes back on the German, “Ah, oh, and a younger sister. Dugyu.” He smiled at the name of his younger sister, “Dugyu is on her most annoying phase. Last week she just slammed my door open and yelled at me for eating her pudding. I mean, it’s just a pudding, but she acted like I just killed Rocky or something.” He chuckled.

 

“Who’s Rocky?” Sergio asked again.

 

“We should set some rules, Sergio.” The boy giddily looked up at him, “One question at a time. Okay? But I’ll get you away with that. Rocky is our pug.”

 

“Alright, _chiquito_ , you’re the boss.” The older man smiled wider.

 

“Okay,” he leaned back for a moment as the same waiter came over and placed some compliments on the table and left, “How long have you known Sami?”

 

The Spaniard sipped on his beer and pondered a little, “Four, five years now, I think? Including the times when we fought a lot.”

 

“Fought a lot?”

 

“One question at a time, Mesut. Do you think we should set a penalty for that?” Sergio grinned at Mesut’s startled face, “Just joking, but I’m not answering. Who is your first date?”

 

“Ah.” The boy nervously scratched the back of his neck, “It was a classmate of mine…Lira. She’s…gorgeous. I mean, she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met. She played football with us boys but she’s still so gorgeous.” He bashfully explained, “I asked her to go with me to the prom, she agreed. But after that, she moved to France.” He shrugged, looking a little nostalgic. Sergio nodded, and the boy quickly asked, “How did you and Sami meet?”

 

“In this place, we got mutual acquaintances.” He smiled at the memory, “The girl he used to date is the same girl who I slept with only a week after we met. That Estefania.”

 

Mesut almost spurted his water as he turned his head at his companion, bewildered, “You gotta’ be kidding me.”

 

Sergio laughed at the expression on the German’s face, “No kidding. He was enraged, but he’s way too modest to go one-on-one, no? I heard he got back with Lena a month after, and a few months later, Lena came here. Gotta’ freak his ass out one more time and they got married.” He sealed the story when Mesut was seriously paying attention, “So. Have you ever had any man-crush before?”

 

“What?” the boy was taken aback, that was so uncalled for.

 

“It’s my time to ask and yours to answer, _tio_.”

 

“Uh. Y-yes, I think I have.” The boy stuttered and looked down at his fingers, watching them entwined with one another.

 

Sergio could sense the sudden anxiety on the boy and how his shoulders tensed in a mere second. He pondered for a while whether he should press the matter deeper, but he did otherwise. “Go on, your turn.”

 

“How…” the boy tried to find a question, tried to relax again, but he found it hard to do. “How did you manage to be friends with Sami?”

 

For the first time ever, Mesut saw the Spaniard fidgeted a little nervously on his seat at the question, as if he was too embarrassed to answer, but he managed to look well-composed, “Well,” he started, “It was silly, actually. I was on a car accident and passed out for most of the time and when I woke up, Rene told me that Sami was the one who informed him.” He smiled embarrassedly, “Out of the numbers I have on my phone, the doctor found his business card in my bag, oddly enough not destroyed, and contacted him. So I heard that he asked all of my friends for my family and stayed up overnight in the hospital’s waiting room until he could reach Rene.” He snickered at himself, “That doesn’t sound cool, but I somewhat feel like he saved me. So I tried to reach him, we talked, and he just went with the flow.” He shrugged.

 

“That is cute.” The German felt somewhat giddy that he could say that, finally, to this seemed-to-be-flawless man before him.

 

“I’ll get you back for that,” Sergio said though his tone said otherwise, “Seeing anyone at the moment?”

 

“No.” The boy answered a little too quickly and regretted it somehow, but he tried to look into his companion’s eyes as he cleared his throat, “I mean, no, I’m seeing no one.”

 

“That’s good thing to hear.” The Spaniard reached his glass again and sipped on his beer, still eyeing the confusion on Mesut’s pinked face.

 

The boy didn’t even reconsider as he spilled out his next question, “Why is that a good thing to hear?” His eyes were bright in expectation, cheeks flushed, but his voice steady.

 

Sergio looked a little taken aback, but suddenly the same waiter returned to their table, delivering foods. He laid out some plates and Mesut was suddenly reminded of how hungry he was, but the conversation still bugged him, so he didn’t even touch the cutleries and still looked at the older man expectantly. Sergio noticed his gaze, but he didn’t say anything and simply smiled as he cut a piece of what seemed to be a roasted lobster and shoved it right in front of the German’s lips, startling the boy who now was looking at him with a puzzled look.

 

“You have to try this.” the Spaniard said and Mesut obediently parted his lips (out of confusion) and took the piece of food with his teeth, face lightened up a bit at the taste. “Good, isn’t it? Try that one.”

 

Mesut grabbed his fork and poked on something that looked like some stew, took a piece of fish into his own plate, cut it to a smaller piece and tasted it. He chewed in appreciation, it tasted so good. “I love these.”

 

“Yeah? Good. They’re my favorites here.”

 

Mesut took some more and they started to eat while Sergio told him about the food and the restaurant, the atmosphere shifted a little too quickly for the boy’s liking, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t stop listening, smiling, or even laughing at the matador’s clever remarks and everything. He started to wonder, though, what he was doing there, sitting with such an amazing man. Surely anyone who saw them would think that the nice gentleman over there was babysitting this foreign kid. Mesut was aware of his look, he was fine, at least that was what he thought, but a sixteen year old and this fine public figure over here, it just didn’t make sense, even for him. Why would he over think this ‘not-a-date’ at the first place then? Why did he feel comfortable around this man? Was this man comfortable around him? He knew better than to assume, but this man had to be _at least_ feel comfortable around him, because if he didn’t, it’d be only too unfair for the boy.

 

The dishes were finished and the waiter collected them. Mesut was happy that he was full now, the food was great, but he wasn’t too happy at the pace his brain took on running. He watched as Sergio downed his beer and requested for another one to the nearest waitress. He then turned at the German boy again, “So, still up for the dessert?”

 

The boy chuckled, “You bet I am.”

 

“ _Dios_ , you do love to eat, don’t you?” Sergio laughed.

 

As if it wasn’t enough pressure on him, his brain decided to remember what Sami mentioned on the dining table one day before. “Only if it’s good.” _Or feels right_ , Mesut added quietly.

 

“It’s good that you’re not hard to feed.” Sergio sighed, “Once I had to babysit my niece and I had to run after her all around the house just to feed her. She was five at that time, you know how toddlers are.” He smiled fondly at the memory; it was obvious how much he loved his niece, it only made the German wanted to smile even more, but on the other side, he felt like he was being compared to a child.

 

“But I’m not a child.” He just had to say that.

 

Sergio blinked, “I know you’re not.”

 

It felt a little awkward, but suddenly Mesut heard a feedback sound and turned his gaze to the stage. He saw some men, dressed in shirt made of silk, dark blazer, and matching trousers. They were setting up some instruments on the stage and on the table right next to the stage, a beautiful woman dressed in an extravagantly bright and glittery pink dress with huge ruffles at the bottom. It looked like it weighed a lot, but the woman didn’t seem to pay any mind. Mesut recognized the dress though and turned to his companion.

 

“Is she the flamenco dancer?”

 

“Yep. And one of the best.” Sergio nodded and turned his eyes at her. She looked up and saw him, waved at him and he waved back.

 

The German looked at the Spaniard with a judging look, “Don’t tell me-“

 

“No, _tio_ , I didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re about to say.” He easily replied and drank more of his beer, “She’s like one of the best around here. When I first came here, her husband taught me to sing.”

 

“Oh.” Mesut leaned back onto his seat, smiling a little.

 

“You look relieved.” Sergio teased.

 

“What do you mean?” the boy chewed on his lip, “I’m…indifferent.”

 

“Right.” The moment the musicians sat down in a line of seats on the stage, the waiter came back with their desserts. Mesut eyed it curiously and the waiter asked Sergio something and walked away with a nod.

 

“This reminds me of _crème brûlée_ …”

 

“I think you’ll like it more.” The older one spooned himself a little.

 

“So,” the boy mumbled as he poked on his dessert, “Are you…seeing anyone right now?”

 

Sergio almost choked himself at the abrupt question, but he maintained his cool, “Are we back to the Q&A game?”

 

“I guess it’s only fair for you to ask this time and the answer is yes. Now, my turn, are you?” the younger one said with his eyes still glued on his remained food.

 

The Spaniard seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he smiled thinly, “I guess I can say it’s complicated.” He shrugged.

 

“You’re avoiding my question.” Mesut dared himself to look at his companion.

 

“Is it a problem for you if I am?” the tone Sergio was using didn’t sound annoyed at all, amused even.

 

Mesut blinked, his cheeks turned rosy red. The older man did sound and look amused, but there was a trace of seriousness in his voice that the boy failed to miss. His lips parted open, but nothing came out, he was far too surprised at the Spaniard’s, frankly speaking, subtle yet blunt reaction. It did clear out something, but left the rest of the things blurred in the boy’s point of view. Would he risk it? But his head already shook slowly without his command as he stared at his companion’s beautiful smile. His body decided to disagree with the dilemma his head was nursing; he felt like to smack himself, but he didn’t.

 

“It’s…not a problem.” He mumbled his reply.

 

“Good.” Sergio nodded, “It is settled then.”

 

“What is?”

 

Sergio chuckled, “That this really is a date.”

 

*


	5. It Only Escalates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not afraid?” the Spaniard raised an eyebrow, “I can, you know, kidnap you and never return you to Sami.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's me again. I'm sorry for the slow progress, people! I actually forbade myself from using Tumblr and writing fanfics for a month. Silly, huh? But I somehow needed it.
> 
> Anyway, here it is. Un-beta-ed as usual and, uh, it's getting bolder in a sense. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. <3

Leaving the house wasn’t easy when you have a cousin like Sami apparently. He fussed over everything, telling Mesut what to do and not, practically shoving his breakfast down his throat and after he almost checked Mesut’s Nike backpack for the third time that morning, Lena snapped at him and he sat back down on the dining table with a pout. After a kiss from Lena and Sami threatening the taxi driver, Mesut found himself faring down the now kind-of-familiar streets and highway and in 30 minutes, he found himself sitting in the meeting point of the domestic flight area.

 

He was half-relieved that he managed to escape his nagging cousin; the man already gave him permission but he woke up in a bitchy mood and started to ruin what Mesut thought was going to be a wonderfully normal morning. Now that he was here, he looked around the busy aisle; there were people with luggage, children running around, airport sure was the busiest place and never went to sleep. He glanced at the nearest flight information screen for the time; he was half an hour early. Sighing, he picked his iPod and put on his earphones. Soon he was drowned in his favorite tracks of Jan Delay’s, being unaware of his surroundings until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to his side only to see a pair of huge brown eyes staring at him with curiosity, tiny and chubby hand on his shoulder.

 

He blinked and stared back. _What_.

 

A rough finger flicked his chin and he looked up to find a smiling Sergio, looking very amused at the face he was making.

 

“Oh,” he unplugged his earphones and flushed a bit.

 

“You seemed to be so absorbed in whatever you were listening to,” the older man chuckled lightly as he pulled that big-eyed creature—kid—toddler—girl into his lap and stroked its—her head, “We called you three times.”

 

“Oh my god,” Mesut shifted nervously, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. It was funny.” The Spaniard laughed lightly, “Anyway,” he glanced at the baby girl on his lap (whose eyes still curiously locked on Mesut), “This is Daniela, my niece. And Daniela, _este es_ Mesut _. Ya os he hablado sobre el. Di ‘hola’ cariño._ ” He kissed the top of the girl’s tiny head.

 

The boy was a little preplexed at the sudden affection-showing and he felt a tiny hand reached his sleeve and tugged. “ _Hola, Mesut. Soy Daniela y voy a cumplir 6 años pronto_.” She smiled cutely, causing an unusual effect that creates a tiny ‘squee’ in Mesut’s head.

 

“ _Hola_ , Daniela,” weakly the boy waved at the girl, he had no idea what the girl just said but he knew from the weirdest fondness that suddenly took its place in his heart, he was going to love this beautiful girl.

 

“I told you you’re gonna’ love her.” Sergio winked and ruffled his niece’s soft, brown hair, “ _Así que_ , ¿ _aprueba usted mi elección pues, bebé_?” he asked Daniela who glanced at him and back at Mesut with a wide smile.

 

“ _Él me gusta, tío Sese_. _Tu novio es muy, muy bonito_!” She gleefully replied, looking at Mesut with a twinkle in her eyes.

 

“ _Buena chica_.” Sergio laughed and eyed the German with the eyes that made the boy nervous for some reasons.

 

“Uh. What did she say?” the boy tried to soothe himself by asking, he couldn’t believe he became that nervous only from what could be a meaningless, casual gesture of a pair of beautiful eyes.

 

“She loves your eyes. She thinks you’re pretty.” The fondness in the Spaniard’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and the boy found himself speechless. He turned his eyes at the baby girl and managed a tiny stutter of ‘gracias’. He honestly didn’t know what to say or think and glared at the older man a little.

 

“What did you tell her about me?”

 

“Just little things that you are. Let’s go, we’ll miss the check-in.”

 

*

 

The flight they took to Sevilla wasn’t bad, apart from the fact that Daniela pushed Sergio away and dragged Mesut to sit next to her. Needless to say, the boy had to suffer from those beautiful, unbelievably huge eyes on him during the flight until the girl finally fell asleep. She wasn’t so chatty, maybe she understood after all that Mesut wouldn’t understand her anyway. Next to him, Sergio was already asleep 15 minutes after the take-off and comfortably he leaned onto Mesut’s shoulder. He found the short flight to be his most exhausting one so far. He couldn’t sleep, for he was afraid that if he moved, he’d wake Sergio or make him uncomfortable.

 

As the result, Sergio looked at him with a questioning look after they got their luggage while he had Daniela in his arms, still asleep. Mesut kept on trying to ease the tight knot on his shoulder and he got that pained look on his eyes every time he moved his arm and he wasn’t quick enough to fake a smile at his older companion.

“You okay?” Sergio asked and there that hand on his neck again, brushing slightly with the ends of Mesut’s hair.

 

“Um. Yeah. Splendid, actually.” He wasn’t good at lying with words, he knew that. He wished he had smiled earlier.

 

“No worries, I’ll help you with that later.” He smiled wickedly as they walked towards the exit, “I’m good with my hands.”

 

“You-“ Mesut almost snapped, but he realized what he was doing and sucked in a shallow breath, “It’s okay.” He picked up his pace only to remove that hand off of him. Now he started to regret his own decision to come along with him, he should’ve listened to Sami. It would be so much better not to keep high hopes in the handsome matador, what was he thinking anyway? He was just another kid on vacation, Sergio was bored, and there was another child in this trip.

 

“Hey,” Sergio caught up with him easily, “I’m only joking, no need to get mad, Mes.” He spoke in that tone that was irresistible for Mesut not to turn his eyes to the speaker and as he had guessed, Sergio had that beautifully genuine smile with a tinge of guilt in his eyes. “I’m not joking about my hands though; I’m really good at giving massage.”

 

The German would like very much to dash and get himself into a deep, shallow hole and never come out, never would he look at the sun that was Sergio Ramos anymore, but this man had his fingers wrapped around him tightly. A smile, a string of sweet words and a simple touch on his arm, and Mesut was on his knees. It made him wonder whether their conversation back at the restaurant days ago was real or just a mere dream because the Spaniard remained unchanged to his behavior. He didn’t lose his cool like Mesut did badly. It was partly excruciating though he felt mostly relieved. The excruciating part would be the softer tone Sergio used when he speaks to him today or the days before on phone, his more blatant proposals and his casual touches that increased in intensity right after the dinner up until now.

 

In the taxi, Sergio’s arm slung unceremoniously around his shoulders as if it belonged there at the first place while he spoke of the weather, a gesture Mesut couldn’t ignore nor react to. It was easy for him to put the blame on the Spaniard, but he did realize that he was there on his own will. He couldn’t be more relieved as Daniela stirred in her sleep and rubbed her eyes awake, capturing the whole attention of his uncle’s. The boy moved a little and leaned onto the leather seat, watching the two from the corner of his eyes. They spoke to each other softly, the girl sounded a little whiny, but with a soothing whisper and a peck on her lips from her uncle, she smiled and draped herself back to Sergio.

 

Funny, Mesut thought as his lids dropped and he let out a small sigh. Maybe Sergio does have that effect on every single human being. Maybe it was just him. For sure, though, he did hope it wasn’t just him. The last thing he remembered was a tiny wishful thinking of how comfortable it would be to sleep with those strong, warm arms enclosed around him and everything was warm and fuzzy as he closed his eyes.

 

*

 

Sergio was seriously not being a show-off at all when he told Mesut about his _hacienda_ , not at all. The German could only gape at the red bricked wall covered with rose bushes with strong, sweet scent. The garden surrounding the house was very-well tended, stone pavement that led to the front door of the house was old but it was apparently very much taken care of. Sergio greeted an old man and a little boy who was busy trimming what seemed to be some shrubs, they welcomed him warmly and didn’t hug just because of the sleeping little princess in his arms. It was interesting to watch them interacting with each other—to watch Sergio at home. The man spoke as animatedly as possible with the old man without waking up his niece and ruffled the little boy’s head before he said his goodbye and beckoned Mesut to come.

 

He tagged along behind him, they walked pass a tiny but pretty fountain, a tinier house, and what seemed to be a pretty big stable. Mesut glared at Sergio’s nonchalant back, _‘a few horses’ my ass_ , me internally grumbled. They got inside the house and Mesut looked around curiously, “This really is a huge house.” He said.

 

“Used to be the house of a huge family.” The older man replied as they reached what seemed to be a living room with large, fluffy sofas and many decorative cushions, some seats—many other seats and coffee tables, but no TV. Mesut wasn’t sure where they were until Sergio put his bags down on the nearest bench and he followed his example. “This house was my grandparents’ from mother’s side. My mother is the youngest of seven.”

 

“Wow.” Mesut could totally imagine children running around the house, mothers cooking; an ideal house his own mom would like to live in with her sisters actually. “Where are the others now?”

 

“Three of mom’s oldest siblings already passed away. Uncle Al’s daughter is in US, aunty Gabi’s twins both live in Madrid, and uncle Damian had no child.” He stroked Daniela’s hair gently and looked around, “I need to get her to her room, okay.”

 

“Ok.” Mesut took his backpack off and sat down on one fluffy couch. It was comfy.

 

A soft breeze brushed his hair from the opened balcony door, the place was quiet, too quiet to be the home of a Sergio Ramos who was rather explosive and loud. It was quiet but he could see what makes this place a home; there were a few tiny drawings on the wall of the aisle he just walked through heighted around his knees, a buzzing old refrigerator somewhere in the wooden bar on the other side of the room, colorful photos of family members on the wall (a sign that they were frequently updated) and the heap of cushions with different patterns on the sofas. It felt nice sitting there, observing the place where Sergio used to grow up in. It was kind of weird too since he couldn’t imagine a kid with bright, brown eyes throwing innuendos.

 

“A penny for your thought?” The space next to Mesut sunk from the additional weight and a familiar arm found its way around his shoulders again.

 

“Nothing interesting.”

 

“You know I can get that out if I want to, right?” the Spaniard gave him one of those ridiculously nerve-cracking smiles and got up just as quickly, “Are you hungry? You want to drink or anything?” He stalked towards the said mini-bar, checking on the used glass shots and the bottle that sat on top of the polished surface. He then went further in that Mesut could no longer keep his gaze on him and hear a familiar sound of opened fridge, “We got non-alcohols. Dr. Pepper? Soda water?”

 

“Do you have water?”

 

“Got it.” Sergio closed the fridge and rummaged through the top shelves, taking two cups and pured some water from the jug he found in the fridge before he returned to the sofa. He offered one to Mesut who gratefully took it and sipped it a little. Much better.

 

“Where’s everybody?”

 

“My mom is probably at the market, going ballistic over some magnolia seeds. She’ll be back soon, though.” He took a sip of his water and placed the cup on the coffee table, leaning back comfortably and closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

 

“What?” Mesut turned his eyes back to the matador and chuckled, “Of course I am here, you invited me.”

 

“No,” Sergio opened his eyes a little and looked at the German through his eyelashes, a grin playing on his lips, “I mean that you’re actually taking my invitation.”

  
The boy shifted a little in his seat and put his cup on the coffee table, “What do you mean?”

 

Sergio reached out to touch his hair, he didn’t avoid the touch, it was kind of reassuring and when the callused fingers entangled themselves among the strands of his hair, he leaned into the touch. “Sami must’ve warned you about me. We both know he’s not happy that I’m spoiling you, _tio_.”

 

“I…” Mesut didn’t know since when, but his head was already on the Spaniard’s strong bicep. He fought against closing his eyes in bliss and letting out a moan, he surely didn’t want to do that. “Sami…didn’t. But he said things to Lena…which I don’t really care right now.” He mumbled and finally gave up on keeping his eyes open.

 

“Let me guess,” the dirty blonde haired man gave more space for the boy to lean in, but not so flushed against each other, “It’s about the ‘wolf’ thing.”

 

“Yeah.” The German didn’t really listen to him anymore. He was tired, he really wanted to sleep now and Sergio’s shoulder was too comfy it should be charged for its sedative effect. He tried to contain himself and pulled off slowly only to have the older man’s hand on his head pulling him closer. “No, Sergio.”

 

“I thought we’re over that, _tio_?” the older man stared at him, unnerved.

 

Mesut screamed the most inappropriate German cuss inwardly and diverted his gaze, this man wasn’t easy to handle at all. What was it with his gentle fingers and whispers? Was it his intention to turn the boy into a puddle of useless goo? Didn’t he realize that he already got his fingers wrapped around Mesut so tightly that the boy was no longer thinking of running away anymore? That was why he was there at the first place. He let go of the issue, he didn’t want to think about it anymore, it gave him headaches and an irresistible urge to dial Thomas’ number. Mesut thought he was the greedy one, but it appeared that it was Sergio who thought that they got some unfinished business. He could use some help from Mario right now; he had no idea what he missed in this…situation. What more Sergio would want? _Why didn’t he just voice it out?_

 

“Yeah, we are.” The boy shivered a little as those fingers rubbed the scalp on the lower back of his head, slowly moving to knead that tight knot on the back of his neck.

 

“Good.” He heard the older man shifted and soon he felt him against the side of his body, the scent of his cologne and warmth radiated subtly but enough to drown the German in delight with such proximity. Sergio was far more physical than he thought, the older man could barely keep his hands off of the boy with small, affectionate touches those were enough to drive the younger one insane but still socially acceptable for an adult who had his hands all over a minor in public. This one wasn’t counted though. Mesut was about to say something when the Spaniard suddenly got up from his seat and stretched, “It’s still early. I’m so hungry, you sure you don’t want anything?”

 

The boy gaped momentarily at the instant shift of the situation, but he managed to shake his head.

 

“Okay, I’m going to the kitchen. Keep an eye on Daniela, please? She won’t cry. Just in case she wakes up.” He stalked towards the door in the end of the aisle near the bar.

 

“Alright.” He mumbled and once again he was alone with his thoughts.

 

He leaned back onto the cushions and buried his face in his hands. Was the god testing him? He couldn’t understand anything, did the dinner really turn him into ‘something’ of Sergio’s? He took his phone and gripped to it tightly, wondering if Thomas was busy or not but then he shrugged. He dialed the number and waited.

 

“Hi, Mes.” He heard his friend’s voice on the other line and sighed in relief.

 

“How’re you doing?”

 

“Uh, started to regret the idea of this trip.” Thomas sounded groggy as he spoke, “Mario really is a relentless party-goer. I don’t think I can handle being sandwiched in between two scantily-dressed blonde ladies with heavy makeup on the dance floor anymore.”

 

Mesut chuckled, that was Thomas alright. “Isn’t that your dream or something?”

 

“Not anymore.” He did sound tired as he grunted some more, “So. How’s the ‘Bang-that-matador-project’?”

 

“I’m at his house now.”

 

“House. Like his house? To bang?”

 

“No, fucker.” Mesut flushed and he realized he hadn’t considered that possibility before, “In his family’s house. As in his grandparents’ house.”

 

“Kinky.”

 

“Thomas!”

 

“Are you meaning to tell me that you’re gonna’ meet his parents when you haven’t even banged each other?”

 

Mesut blinked, “What’s wrong with that?” he innocently asked. It was normal, meeting parents. He had met Lira’s parents before the prom. Or his past crushes. It wasn’t a big deal. Right?

 

“Uh oh. Are you for real?”

 

“He invited me, for god’s sake!”

 

“Wait. Wait.” Thomas sounded bewildered, “I’m not sure I can handle that kind of idea. You sure you don’t want some of Mario’s wisdom?”

 

“Please.” He felt more relieved than he already had. Mario was a senior, but he lived in Thomas’ neighborhood. It was safe to say that Mario taught them both well when it comes to everything that might be the end of a teenager’s life, he sure would know what to do about this. He trusted Mario enough to listen to what he said after Sami went away. “Tell him I need to be fucking _showered_ with his wisdom.”

 

“I’ll call you back later okay. Take care and don’t let your guard down. That’s a really strange man you’re dealing with over there.

 

“Thanks, man.” Mesut smiled sourly to himself and hanged up. Not to let his guard down around Sergio? Thomas had to meet this guy.

 

He got himself comfortable on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to cool down and to assure himself that everything was going to be fine. Absolutely.

 

There were sounds coming from the door where Sergio disappeared from and he instantly opened his eyes, his body went stiff at expectation. He could hear Sergio’s voice and he was not alone. The door slammed open and more sounds filled the huge room. Sergio appeared with a woman—a much older, beautiful woman with similar dirty blonde hair and crease in the corner of her eyes when she laughs. She had her arm wrapped around Sergio and as she spotted Mesut, she switched into a sweeter smile and sauntered over to the German. Mesut automatically got up from his seat.

 

“Hello, _bonito_ , and welcome to our house!” she spoke with accent so much heavier than Sergio and pulled Mesut into her arms and kissed his cheeks. The boy couldn’t feel more awkward, but he thought might have an idea of who this woman was.

 

“My mom,” Sergio chuckled proudly, “Ever-so-beautiful, Paqui.”

 

“O-oh, nice to meet you, ma’am! I’m Mesut Özil.” He gave her a nervous smile as she cupped his cheeks, marveling herself on his pretty eyes.

 

“Call me _tia_ , _bonito_. _Estas muy flaco_! So skinny. You’re okay?” she fussed over Mesut’s gangly form and observed his thin arms, “ _Hay Dios mío, no hay manera de que eso pase bajo mi techo_. I remember your cousin, was very skinny when he came here!” she patted on Mesut’s cheek gently.

 

“ _Mama, dejalo en paz_.” Sergio chuckled as he placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder, “ _Recuerda como asustaste a Sami en su primera visita_.”

 

“ _Sami siempre será bienvenido aquí_.” She slapped her son’s arm and turned to him, “ _Los Khedira también son parte de nuestra familia_. _Sabes lo asustada que estaba cuando_ Rene _nos llamo?_? _Espero que él no siga manejando_.  Is he still driving?” she turned to Mesut who automatically nodded.

 

“Ack.” Sergio winced as Paqui pinched his hip, “Mama!” he pouted adorably.

 

Mesut felt like laughing really hard but he covered his mouth. There was someone who could win against Sergio after all! And it was his own mother. How…cute was that.

 

“Shush now!” Paqui waved Sergio off lightly, “He’s always _pija_ like that. Cuqui, show him around while I prepare something, will you?”

 

“Okay.” He smiled in defeat and took Mesut’s hand in his easily, “Come.”

 

Mesut’s lips parted at both his suddenness and the hand around his wrist, he could do nothing but to follow him through that door. It led them to a staircase and they went down, they came out on the other side of the house where there was a pool and Mesut just realized that the house was ‘U’ shaped. There was another bar by the terrace near the pool (the family sure loved to drink) and Sergio finally let go of his hand.

 

“I’m sorry. Mom is always like that.” He sighed as he slowed down, looking at the boy.

 

“No, it’s okay.” Mesut smiled. “She’s so lovely.”

 

“She wins in everything by being lovely alone.” Sergio laughed, “Do you want to see something? We can start the horse-riding lesson tomorrow, but there’s this really this cool place to chill.” He grinned.

 

“Hm? Sure. Why not?” he looked up and Sergio gave him a look. “What?”

 

“You’re not afraid?” the Spaniard raised an eyebrow, “I can, you know, kidnap you and never return you to Sami.”

 

Mesut laughed, “Really?”

 

“And there’s this empty old shed in not far from here. I can keep you there if I want, you know.”

 

“Do you?” Mesut smiled at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Do you want to?” he repeated his question, glancing at the way they were going to.

 

“I might want to.”

 

“I will fight you.” Mesut chuckled, “You’re not that scary.”

 

“Oh, dang it.” Sergio face-palmed, “I lost it, didn’t I? Damn it. Meet my mom for a minute and I lost all my charm on you.” He pouted a little as they walked through an old gate made of wood to a slightly damp path. Mesut cringed as he almost stepped on some mud.

 

“Maybe.” The boy only grinned to himself. It was weird, yes, but Sergio’s mother was a huge relief beyond belief. It was a little weird, but it was also refreshing for him to be able to act this way around Sergio, carefree and unburdened. Not afraid.

 

“I can get that back, no?”

 

“No, you can’t.” Mesut skipped his steps as he he saw the path eventually led them to a tiny pond in what seemed to be a wood. “Wow.”

 

The trees around them were getting taller, but they looked well-tended as well as the ones around the house. Maybe this was also a part of the house, only further. He ran towards the pond and checked it out; he spotted some fish but what were more interesting were the lotuses all over the surface of the water. They got huge buds on each footstalk, various in color. He was curious as to how beautiful they’d look when they bloom.

 

“You like that, huh?” Sergio walked behind him and stopped the before the pond, eyeing the buds.

 

“Kinda’.” Mesut shrugged. “Lotus is the only plant I can name correctly with flowers.”

 

“A week with my mom around and that’ll change.” Sergio squatted down, “This really is cute.”

 

“What is?” Mesut followed his example by squatting down next to him, trying to see what he didn’t.

 

“You.”

 

Mesut turned his eyes at the older man and flushed to see him smiling. He quickly diverted his gaze and tried to calm his skipping heartbeat. What was that? He thought it was over. Why did he do that again? It took Sergio a few seconds until he laughed into his hand, that attractive crease in the corner of his eyes evident.

 

“You’re the worst!” Mesut buried his face in his arms in shame as Sergio laughed louder.

 

“You really are something, Mesut.” He chuckled to suppress his own laughter, “Your innocence. It’s dangerous.”

 

“What do you mean?” the boy glared at him, cheeks still red up to the tips of his earlobes.

 

Sergio couldn’t really hide his smile at all and faked a cough instead. “Remember the empty shed I told you about?”

 

Mesut nodded and Sergio pointed across the pond. The boy stood up and he could spot an empty, old-looking shed just across the pond. He freaked out a little. Was he serious? He couldn’t be.

 

“I could.” His back was hit against something. Soft. Warm. Smelled familiar. “If I want. Right?”

 

He didn’t know since when Sergio managed to get behind him so close stealthily. He blinked hard. Was the man joking? Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious. But Sami knew him long enough and there must be a reason why Sami was freaking out the way he was. But. But.

 

But to feel Sergio so flushed against his backside, his chin on his head, and soon his hands creeping on his arms…it felt alien. It didn’t feel anything like sleeping against him, leaning against him, or just being touched by him. It felt new. It felt more…intimate. The sensation was unfamiliar but then he felt the older man nuzzling his hair, his face couldn’t turn even redder than it already had. It was a new gesture he couldn’t translate, a foreign language that had never touched his tongue. It was overwhelming that he felt warm in his stomach, heat spreading from wherever Sergio touched him. His head became dizzy with the pleasant smell of the damp pond, Sergio’s cologne and his natural scent. His knees wobbled.

 

Suddenly all the warmth disappeared and Sergio held onto his sides. He blinked as he heard the older man faked a cough and stood there in silence for a moment. He didn’t turn around; he had no guts to do so in all of sudden. Sergio’s hands left his sides and ruffled his hair instead.

 

“You should work on that.” He heard Sergio whispered, “Your guard. Don’t let it down. It’s dangerous.”

 

Mesut didn’t know what he was talking about, but he nodded. It was Sergio’s first request after all and he had Thomas and Mario to help him to understand. It’d be alright.

 

“Let’s go back.” He heard Sergio’s footsteps, “ My mom would go ballistic if we’re late to lunch.”

 

*


	6. It's A Classic 'He Said, He Said'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horse riding is proved to be an unhealthy(?) sport for a high school boy in love and Daniela is the best Spanish teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Mesut and a little bit of Sergio. I failed at keeping this clean (thanks, dirty brain). Enjoy!

“She’s a beauty, is she not?”

 

Sergio caressed her gently, smiling so wide with his eyes gleaming like Daniela’s. He turned at Mesut to see his reaction, anything, and he found the boy staring, looking unsure. He was glad it was not awkwardness he sensed there, though. It was not easy to forget the pond incident for him, but it was good that it did not appear as a big deal for Mesut.

 

“She’s…pretty.” The boy was not sure that he used the exact word to describe the magnificent, 7-foot tall black horse standing graciously before him. Sergio smiled wider to spot the awe on the boy’s face.

 

“She’s Valeria; we got her from dad’s horse years ago. She practically grew up with me.” He turned at the horse, could not help a splash of pride leaking from his speech. “Come here, give her a pat, she’s friendly.” Mesut was glued to his spot and he understood. Some people tended to freak out the first time they see Valeria. No racehorse should be this big and everything. “Come on. You got a dog, right? It’s basically the same thing.”

 

“You don’t ride your dog,” Mesut made a small pout, but he took a hesitant step closer, “And dogs aren’t _that_ big.” He stood next to Sergio and looked at Valeria once again. The mare made odd quiet sounds with its nostrils. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

 

“Yeah. Just try.”

 

Mesut hesitantly stretched his arm and touched the side of her withers gently. The mare was calm and still, only makings small huffy sounds, which were her breath. The boy smiled as he caressed the soft but thick and prickly mane along the withers, it felt funny under his touch and he chuckled. A spark of joy was evident in his huge, dark eyes at the mare’s low nicker.

 

“She likes you.”

 

“Okay.” Mesut grinned, “This is easy.”

 

“Let’s get the riding lesson, then?” Sergio smiled as he walked to the stable and took a saddle that was hanged on the swing door. He carried it back and gently placed it on Valeria before he secured it around his middle and checked everything for safety. He got up after he was done and turned to Mesut only to find him giving him a look. “What?”

 

“That is all? She approves me and I get to start riding her?” Mesut looked a little freaked out.

 

“Yeah.” Sergio deadpanned, “That’s all you need. Well, except that you cannot be nervous around her. Nervous rider, nervous horse. Remember that.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Mesut. Come on.”

 

The boy looked conflicted, but the sighed and moved closer to the mare and petted her once again, “That was an awkward introduction, but I hope you won’t let me fall.” He mumbled more to himself than the horse and turned to Sergio, “How do I do this?”

 

Sergio moved behind him and took his hands, “You put this one here,” he placed Mesut’s left hand on the reins, “and this one here,” he put the other hand on the cantle, “and get your left foot on the stirrup—the tread, yes. Good boy. Now you pull yourself up and sit on the saddle.”

 

Mesut took a breath and hauled himself up swiftly—Sergio readied himself behind him in case the boy would fall, but he was swift and calm as he mounted the horse and he managed well to sit on the saddle. With a sigh of relief, Mesut caressed the mare’s mane again with a triumphant smile, “ _Gracias_.”

 

“Good job!” Sergio laughed and patted him on the lower back.

 

“What’s next?” Mesut asked excitedly, he seemed to be able to overcome his fear now.

 

“Get used to it first.” Sergio patted the reins, “Hold onto this and relax your shoulders. Don’t make any abrupt movement, if you’re getting uncomfortable, tell me.” He pulled a strap connected to the saddle and caressed Valeria’s mane gently, “I’ll take you two for a walk around the house for now.” He gave a gentle pull on the strap and the mare followed his steps, startling the younger man.

 

“Whoa. Oh my god.” Mesut squealed as the horse started to trot, he gripped hard on the reins. Sergio led them away from the stable towards the paved path around the house and watched Mesut. He looked like the child he was, all excited and curious. He was so transparent, that was the first trait that Sergio found endearing of the boy.

 

“You adapt quickly.” He stated.

 

“This isn’t bad at all.” The boy admitted, “You’re used to this, huh?”

 

“Only Daniela and some people I’d like to impress.” The Spaniard shrugged nonchalantly.

 

“Are you trying to get me impressed?”

 

“Are you impressed?”

 

Mesut fidgeted a little, a flush appeared on his cheeks, “A little bit.”

 

Sergio grinned at that, “I can go with that.” He brought them out through the path to the pond they visited yesterday, but a sudden flashback turned Sergio away from the thought. He took a turn towards what seemed to be a farm and brought them among different fields of vegetables.

 

“Is this also a part of the house?”

 

“Yeah. Mom’s project. We sell vegetables and fruits at the market downtown, that’s why mom spends lots of time at market, ogling over peony seeds and god-knows-what-plants.” He shrugged. “Do you want to try leading the horse yourself?”

 

“What?” Mesut looked at him wide-eyed, “I don’t even drive.”

 

“Try for a bit. You can just say when you don’t feel like you can carry on.” Sergio tucked the strap he was holding into Mesut’s hands, “Don’t pull them like how they did in movies. Just give her a slight pull for a trot, keep the balance of your body and do not make any sudden movement. Relax and let Valeria take you.” He patted the boy’s hand and stepped away to make some space, but still close enough just in case. “Try.”

 

Mesut turned his eyes at Valeria’s head and took a deep breath. He gave a gentle pull on the strap and the mare made a soft neigh before she trotted a little faster than before. He gasped but quickly gripped the reins tightly and made sure he did not give her another pull. On their left, Sergio was pacing quickly to keep up.

 

“That’s good, keep going!”

 

“Oh. _Oh_.” Mesut squirmed uncomfortably but he noted that he should not make any abrupt move, so he stayed still. It was cool and at the same time frightening that he got to control a creature twice as big as he was, but it was nice, to say the least. He glanced at Sergio, hands already off the reins again, “Is it okay to speed up?”

 

“A little. Keep the pace I’ll be able to cope with.” Sergio chuckled. “Remember, straighten your body and squeeze her with your legs to slow down. Pull the reins slowly to stop afterwards, got it?” The boy looked excited as he nodded, he felt a little guilty that he did mean to be show-off back then.

 

Mesut gave another gentle pull and the mare trotted faster, “Whoop!” he tried to pull bend himself forward, keeping his body still and moving along with the mare’s movement, feet shaking a little on the treads, but he felt a little challenged. He glanced at his side and found the Spaniard now running. He blinked as he noticed he had never seen no one looked so good in a dark blue polo shirt and cream-colored jeans, never. He flushed at his own thought as he noticed sweat started to trail down Sergio’s tan skin, from his temples down to his chin, eyes concentrated on the ground, body relaxed basking under the glow of Seville morning sun. “Y-you okay there?”

 

“Yeah.” He gave a short reply with a smile, “Count it as my morning workout routine. You can still pick up your pace if you want, I can keep up.” He huffed once, twice, and looked up with a laugh, “My outfit…is not necessarily made…for workout!”

 

Mesut chuckled and turned his head to the long path. He turned back to Sergio with a grin, “Can you keep up for another 15 minutes?”

 

“You have something against me, don’t you?” Sergio glanced at him with that gorgeous smile and a wink. Mesut flushed and diverted his gaze again.

 

“Damn right, I do!” he blurted out and hoped that he could reason the flush upon his cheeks by putting the blame on the Sevillian morning sun.

 

The German did not pick up his pace, but he kept the mare cantering on her pace, glancing at the Sevillian occasionally. He was drenched with sweat, so did the blonde haired man. His hair stuck to his forehead, lips parted once or twice to take the breath his nose failed to, arms folded, and he seemed not to realize that he flexed his biceps a bit. The warmth within Mesut’s belly returned and his mind went to the day before. Sergio’s breath upon his neck, the warmth of the man’s body pressed against him, how he smelt like rain and wood and lemon and _Sergio_.

 

 The boy could not shrug the thought off this time—nor he could yesterday and the cantering mare did not help any of the weird reaction his body gave. He straightened his back and stiffened a little at the slightest friction he got from the moving animal. He slowly yet hurriedly tried to squeeze the mare’s body with his legs and he could have sworn that he moaned at it his own flexing muscles down there and closed his eyes as he patiently waited for the horse to stop. At the same time, the boiling heat in his stomach.

 

The mare slowly came to halt, neighed as she moved to the nearest grass, and started to eat. Mesut sat still with his eyes closed, trying to calm down. Just as he started to be able to breathe properly, another breath and set of steps was heard. He felt an arm around his waist, warm and slightly damp with perspiration. Damp hair found its way to rest against his side and he could feel heavy, hot breath on his left arm.

 

“Damn it…I should’ve…brought water…,” he mumbled against the boy’s hips before his buried his face to the boy’s thigh.

 

Mesut stiffened. This did not help any. He could not move. He feared that the older man might notice the problem he had been sporting on. He tried to squeeze his legs together, but gave up, as it would not look as subtle.

 

“Uh…c-can we go back now, Sergio?” he tried not to moan as he spoke. Sergio’s head was dangerously too close.

 

“Huh?” the older man looked up, he was panting slightly and his longish bangs stuck to his face, eyes genuinely concerned and no, it was not what Mesut needed to see right now. “What’s up? Are you hurt?” he placed a hand on the boy’s thigh and it sent an electric sensation up to his spine.

 

“No, I’m okay.” Mesut still tried to fight against the urge to moan and to seek…friction. Why did this man have to be so…masculine? Handsome? Sexy? He could not find the right word. “Just…uh…aren’t you…tired?”

 

“A little. I can still run for twenty minutes more.” He grinned and took his polo shirt off casually. Mesut had to bit his tongue as his own eyes greedily roamed all over the smooth and tanned expanse of skin showed before him, he squirmed at every flex of muscle, every drop of sweat he could spot, he couldn’t take it. He turned his eyes and covered a hand over his mouth, this time, to silent a breathy whine he could not swallow. This man was _beyond_ evil, doing things to Mesut like this. He was only a boy.

 

“Mes, you okay?”

 

Mesut quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and turned to Sergio, “Yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t I. It’s beautiful here. Ha-ha.” He knew he did not make any sense and the older man was obviously comparing his face to the tomatoes that grew behind him.

 

“Your face is… _so_ red.” Sergio leaned over the mare again and wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist, another hand cupped his face, “You sure you’re okay?”

 

When Mesut first heard about the plan to Seville, he did not think that it would include a particular scene from a _telenovela_ Lena was so in love with. The female protagonist sat on a horse, looking all pretty and shy and _obviously_ bothered (Lena had the strangest sense of romance, seriously) while the male protagonist leaned over the horse, topless, wet, and sexy with his arms around the female’s waist as he kissed his way up the woman’s thigh he was exposing. The last part did not happen to him, yet the ‘bothered’ part hit him even harder than it hit the female protagonist. It reminded him of a cheesy Spanish porno Thomas showed him once and they both made retching sounds watching it, thinking that Spaniards are all hopeless romantics. Maybe it was karma. Maybe this was his punishment.

 

“I…” he mouthed, eyes looking down as he thought of words that would not embarrass him. He found none. “Just…can we just go back, please?” he pleaded, eyes huge and teary.

 

Sergio was taken aback, it did look bad. Was it something he did?

 

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong, _bonito_.” He caressed the boy’s hair gently, seeking for an answer from him and when Mesut shook his head, he frowned. “Mesut, did I do something wrong? Seriously, you can tell me everything. I don’t mind.”

 

Mesut looked at him helplessly and sighed deeply. He found no exit from this, but from the concern that was evident on those gentle eyes, he felt more guilty that he made the older man feel like that over such a stupid, silly, trivial, _childish_ thing. Taking another breath, he rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes again and looked at Sergio with a small pout, “Okay. I believe that you’re an adult and you won’t laugh at me and—and…please don’t think bad of me?”

 

“I won’t.” Sergio was a little relieved that the boy would open up with him; one hand was still running absent-mindedly on his hair.

 

“I…” Mesut started, eyes looking somewhere else that was _not_ Sergio, “…need to pee.”

 

The Spaniard blinked. It took a while as the exclamation registered in his head and he started to laugh—not a teasing laughter, he felt so relieved that it was not anything big at all. Mesut really was a shy one, but he never thought that he was _that_ shy. The boy was half-writhing-half-glaring now on his seat. He was glad that he decided to lie about it though it made him looked like a drama queen, but if he knew that Sergio would still laugh anyway, he wouldn’t even thought about telling him the truth before. Now he knew better how to deal with this ridiculously gorgeous man.

 

“Yeah. Ok. Laugh more, that really helps.” The boy hissed rather viciously.

 

Sergio tried to stop laughing, but he couldn’t hide his smile, “No, _bonito_ , I’m not laughing at you.” He ruffled Mesut’s hair, he got a strong urge to kiss him at that moment but he fought it and wrapped an arm around the boy instead. “Oh, Mes.” He chuckled; chin resting back on the boy’s thigh, “Do you think you can wait until we get home? I can get up there and bring us home fast.”

 

Mesut stared at him, instantly a mental image of Sergio sitting behind him on the horse, topless, wrapping an arm around his middle while the other one controlled the mare popped in his head. He could almost imagine how it would feel and how it would look like, him as a heap of gooey mess in Sergio’s arms and the galloping mare—since when did he build a fetish in horse riding? He would not be able to endure it. All the blame to Lena and her contagious love for _telenovela_.

 

“No toilet around here somewhere?” he asked, cold sweat started to slid down his back.

 

“How about…” Sergio looked around, “…the bushes?”

 

“Are you kidding me right now?!”

 

“What?” the Spaniard turned his head to him abruptly, eyebrows joined, “Seriously, you’re just taking a leak!”

 

“I…uh…okay, fine.” The boy shifted on his seat and Sergio moved away to give him space to move. As he tried to balance himself on the left tread, he felt his knee wobble and winced as he pulled his right leg carefully. He could not help it as he lost his balance at the spreading warmth in his belly, head spun, but a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his torso and helped him off the horse.

 

“You’re okay?” the very same voice asked right next to his earlobe.

 

He only let out a small grunt as he pried those arms off him and ran to the farthest bushes he could find yet not too far, but he could not see or hear Sergio’s voice calling him anymore. Nervous fingers fumbling with the buckles of his jeans and he impatiently dragged his pants and boxers down. Just before he could do anything, he heard Sergio’s voice from afar, asking if he was okay, and with a shocked gasp and choked moan, he was done.

 

*

 

Sergio had no idea what he was doing. He remembered the first time Sami told him about his baby cousin and he laughed at the man for being such a mother on someone he did not even give a birth to. It was so funny until Sami presented the real thing to his sight. Well, Sami did not since he bumped with the boy before Sami introduced them and he found himself a new ‘prey’, the way Sami preferred to address anyone he was interested in. He took it as a compliment, to frankly speaking, as he knew well the German knew his record on that certain area.

 

He had not expected Mesut to be just as Sami described. Better yet, attractive for a boy his age. Those big curious eyes stole glances at him when the owner thought he was unaware of it from behind those thick eyelashes, pink lips stammered for words upon question. It felt like getting a new plaything for Christmas at first, exciting and somewhat challenging. When he told Sami his idea to take Mesut to Seville and Ibiza, the man literally exploded with worry and annoyance, if not anger. He knew Sergio well enough to make friends with Mesut, yet he also knew him well enough that he could translate that wolfish look on his face when he looked at the younger German. It only made him feel more challenged to get his way to the boy, of course, and he sought support from Lena, which she generously gave.

 

It was challenging and fun for him, though it was a dangerous thing to do. He found himself regretting it, but when the image of Mesut’s curious eyes upon him, cheeks flushed from unknown embarrassment, and lips pursed at the thought of forming words, he knew it was worth a try. Such a young boy would know very well that it was a mere little game, right? When Sergio was his age, everything was more of a game in his life. No commitment. As strange as it was though, he did not see the same fire in Mesut that led him to confusion. Mesut was not the first teenager he had been interested in. There was a beautiful boy he met at a shady bar in Fuenlabrada, ‘Nando’ he was called.

 

The boy was happy and feisty, if not bolder than Sergio was. He made sure he visits that bar as often as possible, they exchanged phone number, they spoke by phone at night until their eyes gave up on them, he enjoyed every moment he had with Nando; the talk, the sex, the phone-sex, and he found it was endearing how Nando didn’t make him feel like a dirty old man. He went to school by day and the bar at night just for his own pleasure, he reminded Sergio so much of himself when he was much younger. He was also quick enough to catch the pace of relationship Sergio wanted. Swift. Restless. Passionate. It was exciting.

 

Mesut, though, was not like how he expected a teenager to be. He was rather…slow and shy. Physically, he was not as fragile as Nando, but his naïveté made him seem much younger than he truly was. He could understand though, with a make-believe-brother like Sami, the boy would not have fared as well as he or even Sami did in his early stage of life. He sometimes wished that he really was a dirty old man himself as he had been trying to dissolve Mesut’s image in his head by thinking of little Nando. The beautiful blonde lad with twinkles of naughtiness playing in his pretty eyes, soft kisses from those rosy lips that made Sergio lose his control for many times, carefree and warm laughter…

 

It was something he had never told Sami. Something he kept only to himself and no other soul in this world. Nando was precious and everything, but every time he tried too hard remembering how it felt like touching the boy, Mesut always returned to his head with his shy smiles and nervous stutters. It scared him how he wanted that boy all for himself, he didn’t want to lose control like he did before, but there Mesut was, standing with his guards off, everything was open for Sergio to savor.

 

He could do it. He knew he could do it, like what he did to Nando, but something stopped him. He had no idea what that was, but to have the little German boy so close to him, but as the familiar fragrance of Lena’s shampoo, cologne of his own choice and something else that was distinctively _Mesut_ filled his nostrils, he just stopped. He could not even take one step further. For a moment, he heard his own voice telling him that Mesut wanted him as bad as he was and he _knew_ Mesut wanted him. Why did he stop?

 

It did take some time for him to touch him again afterwards. The ride back to the house on Valeria had been a little too hard than he expected with Mesut against his bare torso, shaking along with the mare with his adorably flushed cheeks (why, he wondered, maybe it was the sun?). It gave him enough cause to seek release later in shower right before his _mamacita_ called them for lunch.

 

When he found the boy was aiding his beloved niece in the terrace just after the sunset, he found himself smiling and feet brought him to where they were. Daniela spoke slowly to Mesut as if it would make him understand and it was the first time the boy cracked a smile at him after the horse riding (maybe the sun was too hard on him after all before).

 

“I’m hopeless. Even a 6-year-old speaks better Spanish than I do.” He chuckled shyly as Daniela used her chubby hand to pull his head back to her. Sergio watched with interest and sat down next to him with an amused expression.

 

“ _Presta atención_ , _May-soot_!” she pursed her lips adorably and it did keep Mesut’s attention still on her, “ _Repite lo que te enseñe_. _Te_ …”

 

“ _Te_ …” Mesut followed her lead, a teasing smile on his lips, “… _amo_?”

 

“ _Digo a tío_!”

 

Sergio, realizing what was happening, turned to Mesut before the boy could say anything, “No. Don’t.” then he turned to his niece with a small smile, “ _Mi ángel_ , _no le puedes decir a otros que digan ‘Te amo’, a cualquier persona así_.” He poked Daniela’s nose gently and the girl blinked.

 

“ _Pero Mesut es tu novio y los novios se dicen ‘te amo’ los unos a los otros_!”

 

“Are you talking about me? What are you talking about?”

 

Sergio shook his head; he should not have let the baby girl to be around him too much, now he got what he deserved. Clever baby as always. A little bit too much of _telenovela_ , though. “Nothing, Mes. We’re not.”

 

“She told me to say these words to you, no? ‘ _Te amo_ ’?”

 

Sergio’s heart skipped a beat to hear that simple phrase said in a heavily accented, gentle and curious voice. “No. Stop. She’s just messing with you.” He tried to avoid Daniela’s curious eyes.

 

“What does it mean, ‘ _te amo_ ’?” the German looked at him, sincerely curious, “Is it bad?”

 

“Much on the contrary.” Sergio chuckled and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder out of habit, cringed a little for a mere second, but then Mesut did not seem disturbed. “It’s…a good thing. But you don’t say it around to random people.”

 

Mesut tilted his head a little and made a small smile at the Spaniard, “ _Te amo_.”

 

Sergio could have sworn that his heart just stopped beating for a moment before he could retrieve all his senses and gather the realization that in fact, in a deformed, childish-sensed kind of fact, Mesut just confessed to him. He gave him a look and the boy only shrugged.

 

“You’re not ‘random people’, no?”

 

Sergio smiled and leaned back on the seat, his arm found its way around Mesut’s shoulder and he heard a gleeful giggle that was unmistakably his niece’s.

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

*


	7. Consideration(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario is a mother hen, but Mrs. Ramos is the real deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-ed as usual and I wrote this half-asleep. Pardon the cheesiness. Should I promise for less on the next chapter?

Mesut just finished his shower when he heard his cell ringing. Curiously he sauntered towards his bed, a towel secured around his hips, and hair still dripping wet. He felt dull soreness on his calves as he walked; it had been a long day with Mrs. Ramos, Daniela, and Sergio in the town, accompanying Mrs. Ramos to the flea market since early morning. It was so simple since the nice lady promised him some _amarguillos_ which he had no idea what and he only tried to be polite. They only went back before lunch and it was enough experience for him to regret his decision. Sergio even threw him a judging look whenever Mrs. Ramos gave him her grocery bag.

 

It was nice that they didn’t plan anything today and he actually planned to lay his bed all day long, but soon he’d have to drag himself out at Mrs. Ramos’ call for lunch though. He shuddered at the thought that Lena might turn to be like her when she gets older. Carelessly, he threw himself onto the bed and tapped the screen of his phone.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi, Mes!”

 

Mesut froze at the familiar voice. “Oh, hi, Mario.” _Shit_ , he forgot about Thomas. “H-how’re you, man?”

 

“I’m good. We’re having lunch at the moment.” The older man sounded calmer than Thomas could ever be. How did he deal with the hyperactive boy anyway? “Listen. Thomas told me about your… _problems_.”

 

_Oh god, here we go again._

 

“Uh. How to say this. Mes, you’ve met the family of the guy who barely dates you?”

 

Mesut bit his lower lip, both in embarrassment and regret of how true that sounded coming from Mario. “Kind of.”

 

There was a short pause and he heard a meek sound in the background that sounded like Thomas. Mario seemed not to pay attention to any of it and there was a shuffling sound, “Look, kid, I know you’re visiting Sami over there, but why does it sound to me that your plan of a holiday is more dangerous than ours here? Does Sami know?”

 

“Of course not, he’d skin Sergio alive.” Mesut mumbled uncertainly, but this obviously caused another shift in his feelings that he might have done something so, very stupid.

 

“Mesut,” Mario might be one of those guys with endless patience he had ever met for how calm and gentle he sounded over the line, “I don’t know what kind of guy you are dealing with, but I feel like there’s something off about what’s going on. Who would go out with his own best mate’s underaged cousin, really?”

 

“He didn’t exactly ask me out-“

 

“Then what’s his intention? You only met him shortly and he took you to his family. I’m sorry, but it sounds odd.” He sighed, “I’m sorry, but I took the liberty to google your guy. He’s a pretty famous.”

 

The younger man made a face, he had never thought that anyone would ever google his romantic interest in this lifetime. He did forget that this time he was dealing with a man who could kill two giant bulls in less than five hours while prancing like the most elegant stallion in the arena.

 

“My Spanish is not much of a wreck, of course,” For once, Mario sounded proud, “And all that I can say, he got an unhealthy appetite for one-night-stands. He’s seen with different women and men, according this fansite I found. He didn’t even try to cover it up, not that would affect his popularity though.”

 

“I’m…kinda’ familiar with the subject you’re talking about.” Mesut winced a little. How could he not, Sergio really didn’t try to hide anything at all.

 

“What.” Mario sounded almost shocked, “What is wrong with you?”

 

“I don’t know, okay?” the boy spat in distress, “I-he’s kind, I don’t think he’s up to anything bad. I know this sounds stupid coming from a guy who gave his pocket money for a beggar who didn’t look like a beggar at all-“

 

“Mes, he was wearing a pair of fucking brand new Nike boots.”

 

“And that is not important! His grandma was dying.” He then realized what he was doing and refrained, “What I’m saying is…I like this guy and he’s nice. I mean, think about it, he can do anything bad and I can always find him anyway. I can, like, kidnap his niece and mom now that I’ve met his family, right?”

 

“I take it that Thomas wasn’t joking when he said that you started to sound like a girl.”

 

Mesut gaped. Mario held a high respect to women and no matter what he was the kind of guy who would never make a joke out of them, so this really was serious. “Mario, I know that you care and I admit that I know nothing about where this is going to, but I’m willing to give it a try. I know I _need_ to.”

 

Mario was silent for a while before he sighed, “I admit it’s harder to accept that you boys have grown too much when Thomas is around too much.”

 

Thomas’ muffled protest was heard and Mesut smiled. “I have to start to learn what I’m doing before it’s too late, anyway, and I want to start now. We should hang out more later when we get back to balance the odds you’re having.”

 

“Sure. Just…take care, bro. Give us a call if you need anything.”

 

“You guys too. Have fun.”

 

He hanged up. To have Mario calling him sometimes might mean that he had leaped over some boundaries he didn’t see. He appreciated the man’s concern, but he was sure about the choice he took. Not even Mario could shake him though the guy knew the tragedy of his love-life way better than Sami; they hang out often back home even after Mario graduated. He chuckled to himself; it was easier for him to overcome Mario’s graduation than it was for Thomas. He actually suspected that the boy had a thing for the half-Spaniard, yet Mario was straight and Thomas was too keen on pretending that he was too. He didn’t seem to realize that Mesut noticed whenever his eyes lingered way too long on Mario’s butt for some reasons.

 

Thinking about ways to torture Thomas later at home, he got up and took a clean shirt and a pair of boxers.

 

*

 

When Sergio reached the kitchen, his mother just got a tray of _amarguillos_ out of the oven and placed it on a counter. She hummed an old Latino ballad she used to sing to lull him to sleep when he was a kid, it was a beautiful sight to see. He remembered growing up in this huge place, running from corridor to corridor with his siblings and cousins, eating homemade cooking everyday. It still felt surreal that Mesut was somewhere in a guest room in this house, staying with them and watching the scenes he saw ever since he was little, actually helped his mother to shop this morning, and being _here_. In this important place.

 

He could feel his cheeks flushed a bit at the thought, he shooed the thought away and stole a freshly-baked macaroon. Before he could pop it into his mouth, a soft hand took it away and he turned to see his mother smiling at him.

 

“No desserts until you finish your lunch, _chiquito_.” She said as she put the sweet back on the tray.

 

“I’m not a child, ma.” He pouted and his mother laughed as she sauntered towards the fridge.

 

“Try to convince me later when you get me some grandchildren.” It hit him harder than he thought, but before he could speak, Mrs. Ramos glanced at him over the fridge door with a glint in her pretty eyes, “Or at least a pretty spouse. Partner. Long-term girlfriend. Or boyfriend. _Dios_ , there are too many names to call them.”

 

It startled him. _She knew?_

 

Mrs. Ramos closed the fridge door and huffed, “If course I know, _mi principito_ , what kind of mother do you think I am?” she walked back to the counter with a bowl of what seemed to be his specialty cream and put it down on it. “I never really care about it. Not anymore, at least. I only want my baby to be happy like his two other siblings.”

 

Sergio was speechless and he looked down at his feet. He felt like he was 8 again, thought that he was going to get scolded for messing around the bulls in the farm next door, but her mother just laughed when she saw him trying to hide himself in his red-colored blanket. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such an angel for a mother, he only hoped he didn’t give her hard times.

 

“But he’s too young, honey. Wouldn’t want to see you in jail anytime soon.”

 

Once again, his ma gave him a heart attack.

 

“ _Mama_!” he believed he just whined, but he couldn’t help it. “W-what are you talking about? It’s not funny!”

 

“I see the way you look at him and the other way around.” Mrs. Ramos chuckled as she started to stuff the baked sweets with cream, “I can’t even believe I’m not castrating you from running after a teenager, but you two aren’t good at hiding it. Especially Mesut, I must say.” She sighed, “I hope he won’t make any stupid decision, but somehow I believe he already did.” She sighed heartily.

 

“What do you mean, ma?” Sergio sat down on the stool across her, face curious and desperate.

 

“He’s head over heels over you. Don’t tell me you don’t know.” She snorted, “You’re better at hiding it, but I know you are too about him. He’s just…how to say this…he’s a child, _chiquito_. Don’t hurt him.”

 

Sergio almost glared at her for accusing him to be the one who’d hurt Mesut, yet the fact that he knew he was capable of doing such a thing actually stung him harder. “I…don’t. Won’t. I mean…” he tried to find something to say and he watched at how swift his mother’s hands worked on the sweets. It eased him a bit. “He’s Sami’s cousin. My best friend’s baby cousin. I hurt one of them, I’m ruining both, ma. I can’t risk it.”

 

“It’s not what you’re afraid of.” Mrs. Ramos eyed him sharply and Sergio squinted though he felt an urge to hide himself.

 

“Ma, can we not talk about this?”

 

“Stop running away, _Cuqui_.”

 

“Ma. Please.”

 

Mrs. Ramos sighed. She would drop it for now. She didn’t trust in what people call ‘maternal instinct’ that much, frankly speaking, but she could somehow foresee where this would go. “Listen, baby. You cannot stay idle, not with Mesut or anyone else. You seek happiness yourself, you don’t steal or make it, you find it. If you see it in him, there’ll be a way to take you there. There are efforts and sacrifices you have to give, but trust me on this, in the end it’ll be worth it.”

 

He had been getting for years and there was no way to stop him from smiling whenever he heard that. He knew she was right, but if he let her speak more, he was afraid he would not be able to control his feelings and urges anymore. He could not. He would not let himself go, not this time and his mother knew it very well. She had been supportive for all these years, he might not told her even a half of his life, but it never took a long time for her to understand of what he would need and provide. He could endure it this time.

 

“Get Mesut for lunch, _Cuqui_. He’s been in his room for a little bit too long, I guess he’s tired but there’s no way anyone would be able to skip lunch under my roof.”

 

Sergio grinned and moved swiftly to her side to give her a peck on her cheek and stole an _amarguillo_ from the table, “Love you, ma.”

 

Mrs. Ramos smiled, “I love you more.”

 

*

 

“Mes,” Sergio knocked on the door, “It’s lunchtime. Get out here before I make you!” he knocked some more and waited, but he heard no reply. He checked on the doorknob and found it unlocked. He pushed it open, “I’m going in, okay? Make sure you’re not naked or something.” He smiled a little at the possibility and went in. “Mes?”

 

Looking around, he found Mesut’s backpack resting comfortably at the foot of the bed, the window was open and a cool, summer breeze blew the translucent curtain gently. Taking a few steps more, he found Mesut lying on the bed, dressed comfortably in his tee and boxers. He curled to the empty side of the bed, a damp towel stranded near his slightly damp hair as he snored softly. Sergio’s breath was caught in his throat at the sight. He looked so warm and comfortable, he had never seen the boy looking like that.

 

Tiptoeing nearer to the bed, he carefully took the wet towel and disposed it onto the nearest bedside table before he turned his eyes back to the German. He looked so innocent and young, even younger than he claimed to be. A tinge of guilt hit him, he was so painfully young; he was still a child after all. Why did he drag him into this? It wasn’t meant to be like this, he’d even like to just confuse him a little, he loved those sparks he saw in the boy’s eyes when their eyes met and how his cheeks would turn red. He only knew that he loved to see them, he would want to see them more often, he had never thought he would actually crave for more than just that.

 

Trying not to make any sound, he crawled onto the empty space on the bed, leaning as close as possible to Mesut, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body but not to touch him. His brown eyes ran over the boy’s face, studying his longs eyelashes, his unblemished pale skin, counting the tiny moles he got on the side of his face, on his beautiful nose, on his cheek, on his chin. His lips parted slightly as he breathed softly through the tiny gap, looking as peaceful and as undisturbed as ever. He smelt of apple shower gel and minty shampoo, so clean and fresh. It gave Sergio weird urges which he had a hard time on handling.

 

He found himself moving closer stealthily, taking in the scent that was distinctly Mesut underneath the layers of fragrances. He closed his eyes and found himself once again craving for nothing but this beautiful boy. Ghosting over the soft skin of his cheek, he found his hand trailing down on it, down to his chin, then his neck and collarbone. Sighing inaudibly, he pulled it back. He wouldn’t be able to handle what might happen next, the thought of touching him at this moment was even more excruciating regardless of the fact that he was rather ignorant about the fact that he did touch Mesut every time he had the chance.

 

Forget Sami, there was no way he would want to hurt this boy. He was unlike Nando. He was unlike anybody else he had been with before, there was more of this and he could plainly foresee it. Sometimes he wondered, maybe he didn’t want to foresee it. The quick beating in his chest was something he found so foreign to linger for a long time like this, the thrill was more than the excitement of a chase he was usually after. The thought of this boy to be so close to him was somewhat unrealistic. The craving for what was to come after the chase was an even more unrealistic idea for him. It just wasn’t something for him.

 

Mesut whimpered a little and Sergio noticed him shuddering. He moved in his sleep, closer to the Spaniard and actually pressed his body against the older man’s and sighed before he continued to breath evenly. Sergio was stunned at that. The boy’s forehead rested against his chest comfortably, he curled up further, slipping a foot under Sergio’s calf, and he actually made a pleasant hum. He felt his heart just skipped a beat. This wasn’t good. He wasn’t suppose to feel like this with a bunch of damp hair against his chest, soft ankle rubbing against his hairy leg—Mesut was not suppose to look that comfortable to find an alien thing next to him. Then again, he was asleep.

 

He could feel hot breath against his chest now. It was so hard not to reach out and wrap his arms around this beautiful boy. He could not even hear his mother’s voice anymore, he would never harm this angel and he’d find a way. He could beat Sami if he needs to, he did not even have to think twice even though he knew Sami took Capoeira in his free time; he slay giant bulls for a living, for god’s sake. He would be able to do this. It was not that big of a leap.

 

“Uh,” Mesut shook in his sleep again and it startled Sergio.

 

The boy practically rubbed his face on the front of the Spaniard’s tee, he was obviously sleepy and slightly disturbed at whatever it was he was having and looked up to him, sleepy doe eyes staring at him confusedly and he couldn’t help but to smile widely at the adorable sight. He looked confused and tired, yet he gripped on Sergio’s tee as if he was afraid to lose balance or something. He glanced around and back up to Sergio.

 

“Hello there.” The Spaniard whispered, brushing a stray bang off Mesut’s left eye.

 

“…Sergio…?” he groggily spelled his name, it sounded awkward in Sergio’s ears but he didn’t care. “W-what are you doing here…?”

 

“Mom told me to get you for lunch.”

 

“Oh.” Mesut released the older man’s tee and rubbed his eyes, awareness started to seep into his voice, “Oh. Um.” He dared not to look up again, Sergio could tell from his reddening cheeks. He took that opportunity to place a hand on his hips, trying to make it seem like an innocent touch, but Mesut did not seem to see it that way. He glanced at that hand and up at Sergio, “Uh…can…can you give me one minute?”

 

“Sure.” He replied but he stayed still, his hand started to caress the boy’s hips.

 

Mesut blinked and flushed harder. He didn’t look at Sergio though he could feel the man’s eyes on him. He did not have any idea what happened, he just found himself awake clutching onto Sergio who was lying so close, almost against him and he pulled out his leg from under the matador’s leg. Weirdly enough, this didn’t feel awkward, he just felt embarrassed. How did this happen? Did he do anything embarrassing in his sleep? How long have Sergio been here?

 

Before he could dismiss the questions that popped in his head, he felt Sergio’s hand that was previously on his hips on his chin. It then cupped his cheek and turned him up to look at the Spaniard’s brown eyes. His breath hitched at the closeness and how mesmerizing the Spaniard looked at this proximity. His golden hair was on his cheek, his neck, loose and sleek like it usually was. The unshaved stubbles only defined more of the strong structure of his cheekbones, making it harder for Mesut to breathe. He didn’t know anywhere else to look except Sergio’s eyes; they were so warm and so deep. He could see himself drowning in them.

 

Sergio moved closer and nuzzled his hair, and then his cheek and he stared deeply into the boy’s darker eyes. Mesut was so warm and open like this. It was a dangerous. He couldn’t help it himself and pressed his forehead against the boy’s, feeling his hot breath against his own lip. How much he wanted to lean in and taste those sweet lips, but he was afraid. He was afraid he would lose it and he could not lose this boy. He would only like to escape from the argument he was having in his head, both sides didn’t help him to be certain.

 

“I…” he mouthed, “Can we stay like this a little longer?”

 

Mesut was perplexed. Never before Sergio asked for anything from him, he had never even heard that kind of tone coming out of the man’s lips before. He could find no way to object to that and nodded. Sergio wrapped an arm around his middle, pulling him closer but not flushed, just enough to feel one another and closed his eyes. Mesut looked at him and he found relieve, peace. It wasn’t driven by his urge as he moved his own hand and touched Sergio’s cheek, feeling the stubbles under his fingers, rubbing gently. It only felt natural to do that and he was glad he did. Sergio let out a small sigh and he relaxed more against him.

 

 _No more hiding_ , Mesut mentally noted, _no more running_. He would do this. If this man would not do anything about it, then he would.

 

*


	8. Teenage Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sami bawls at Mesut's return, Lena's creativity runs high, Mesut is effin' smitten (and so does Sergio!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. I don't really like this chapter, this one is kinda' lame and OH THE CHEESINESS. >

“You should stay longer,” Mrs. Ramos practically pouted at the boy decades younger than her, squeezing his arms, “ _Cuqui_ can go back by himself, it’s only for a silly bull-slaughtering event, anyway.”

 

Mesut could only laugh when he heard Sergio snorted as he got his luggage into the baggage of the cab, “Stop it, ma, you love my job even more than I do.”

 

“Of course. Your father looked so handsome in his  _traje de luces_.” She wriggled her eyebrows in a funny way, ignoring Sergio’s desperate expression as she cupped Mesut’s face gently. “ _Cuqui_ is not even half as handsome as his father back then.”

 

“I believe so.” Mesut chuckled and Sergio groaned at that.

 

“We used to have much smaller arena back then, the girls were head over heels on him, but after the bulls died, he gave all the roses the audience threw for me.” She laughed, “It used to be so much more romantic, you know? Men knew well how to court and treat the lovely ones.” She sighed, “Nowadays everything is way too hectic, too busy to get a flower even.”

 

Mesut was a little unsure how to react to that and only nodded.

 

“Try not to get lost in this crazy world, _chiquito_. And spread these words of wisdom.” She patted the boy’s head gently.

 

“Sure, _tia_.” Mesut chuckled.

 

“Come on, Mes, we gotta’ catch the flight!” Sergio called and from inside the house, Daniela ran out with her flowery dress her grandma got her a few days ago. Her long hair was braided neatly with ribbons of the same color with her dress and she draped herself on Mesut’s legs.

 

“Mesut! Mesut, _levántame_!” she bounced on her feet and Mesut smiled at her before he bent down to reach her.

 

“ _Muy bien_ , _princesa_.” He picked her up and she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. He had been spending lots of time with the girl here, it was actually unbelievable that he managed to pick up a little of the language that didn’t sound that foreign anymore in his ears. It still did on his tongue, though.

 

She leaned forward to her grandma and Mrs. Ramos kissed her lips and cheeks lovingly while caressing her silky blonde hair, “ _Adi_ _ós_ , _Abuelita._ ”

 

“ _Nos vemos, mi precioso ángel_. _Besa a mama y a papa por mí,_ _okay? Te quiero_.” She kissed her once again on her cheek as she nodded. She turned to Mesut and reached out for his cheek, “You have to come again, _chiquito_. You’ll be missed.”

 

“Of course. Thank you for having me here, _tia_.” Mesut smiled. He’d very like it to be here again, that was one thing for sure.

 

“Oh, _ven aquí tu_!” she pulled Mesut into her arms and kissed his cheeks fondly.

 

“Come on, people.” Sergio sighed as he walked to them, “He’d be here again in no time, ma.”

 

“You better guarantee me that!” Mrs. Ramos gave him a sharp look that caused Mesut to blush and Sergio to fall silent. “ _Ven aquí,_ Cuqui.” She opened her arms for Sergio and the blonde-haired man wrapped his arms around his mother. Mesut could hear Mrs. Ramos spoke in whispers against Sergio’s cheek and it only felt right for him to give them more space. With Sergio’s hectic schedule, it must had been hard for them to see each other and he understood. After a few seconds, Sergio walked back to him and touched his shoulder.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Mesut turned at Mrs. Ramos and smiled at her, “See you, _tia_.”

 

“Bye, _Abuelita_!” Daniela waved at her and Mrs. Ramos waved at them.

 

“Have a safe trip!”

 

Mesut carefully got into the cab with Daniela in his arms; it was a little awkward but he managed not to hurt them both. Sergio got in from the other side of the car and sat comfortably next to him. Daniela climbed out of Mesut’s arms and crawled onto her uncle as if seeking comfort with a heartbreaking pout. She whispered to Sergio and the older man chuckled lightly, whispering back and caressed her back gently as she buried her face into his neck. Mesut watched them as the car started to move. He loved watching them both like that; it helped him forget that Sergio was a celebrity for once. He looked good as an uncle as well as a son. Sergio caught his eyes and smiled at him.

 

“What did she say?” Mesut asked as he caressed the neat braid Mrs. Ramos made out of Daniela’s smooth hair.

 

“She’s sad that she has to leave her granny.” Sergio smiled at the small act of affection Mesut off-mindedly showed.

 

“I understand how she feels.” Mesut chuckled, “My mom used to drag me out of my granny’s house when I was little.”

 

Sergio gave him a look, “No longer?”

 

Playfully Mesut pinched the man’s wrist, “Not as bad.”

 

*

 

The rest flight home went comfortably silent. Daniela fell asleep quickly on his uncle’s lap and so did Sergio who leaned to Mesut’s side. One of his arms rested on Mesut’s knee and the boy leaned onto it as he slept. Physical contacts were no longer an awkward matter in the last few days, Sergio did not cease and Mesut did not shy away from his touch anymore. It was far more comfortable now. The second they landed, Sergio ordered him a cab and gave him a hug before he let go, ruffling the boy’s hair gently with a vibrant smile and receiving the same in return. He cupped the German’s cheek, feeling how he leaned into his touch instead of refusing one with a pleasant hum.

 

“Thank you for the trip, Sergio. I had fun.” He shyly mumbled, but his smile only grew wider as his eyes met with the taller man’s.

 

“I say we’re not done with cool trips.” The Spaniard replied, “I’ll check my schedule and arrange another one soon, _chiquito_.”

 

Mesut nodded and looked down at Daniela who was draping himself on his legs again, “Daniela, _estoy a casa_.” The words felt a little awkward on his tongue, but the girl could easily understand his Spanish beneath his thick accent. Daniela looked up with a pout and Mesut squatted down before her, “ _Detener pucheros_ , _princesa_.” He repeated the magic words Sergio told him to handle the girl and her moods.

 

“ _Ven con nosotros_ , Mesut.” She whined and Mesut laughed, more because the adorable pouty face the girl made and the fact that he didn’t understand what she just said, but it was enough for him to understand that the girl had grown attached to him, at least as attached he felt he was to the baby girl.

 

He looked up at Sergio, “Please tell her she’s welcome to visit me anytime and I’ll, somehow, visit her?”

 

Sergio bent down and picked Daniela into his arms while Mesut stood back up, “ _No te preocupes, cariño, lo veras pronto. Te lo prometo_.” He kissed the top of Daniela’s hair and the girl beamed.

 

“ _Levántame, tío_ Sese. Mesut, _ven aquí_!” She extended her arms to reach Mesut from her uncle’s hold.

 

Mesut laughed and let the girl to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed his cheeks, “I’m gonna’ miss you, Daniela.” He pulled back and Daniela beamed at him.

 

“Let us walk you to the cab.” Sergio said as he reached for his luggage, but Mesut waved his hand.

 

“No worries. She looks tired anyway.” He smiled gently at the blonde girl, “And you as well.”

 

“I’m okay, Mes.” Sergio laughed, “Have you seen me slaughtering bulls? An hour flight and a clingy baby is nothing compared to that.”

 

“I’m sure about that, but it’s okay.” Mesut chuckled before he fell silent for a moment and his hands automatically went to the straps of his backpack, eyes looking at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at the Spaniard. “When will I see you again?”

 

Sergio was a little startled. Mesut sure had changed quite much in the last one week, but he didn’t expect this. Sure he wanted to see Mesut, even the thought of returning him home today actually left him kind of devastated and more touch-starved than he usually was. What would he do without this Bambi-eyed baby everyday from today on? _Wait, what?_

 

“Soon.” His tongue betrayed him, obviously, “I’ll contact you soon, okay? Feel free to text me anytime or anything, whatever.” He shrugged with a smile.

 

Mesut nodded and took a breath, “Okay. Then. I’m going now.” He turned to the opposite direction of the exit, “See you guys.”

 

“Real soon.” Sergio gave a reply.

 

Mesut flushed and chewed his lip lightly as he walked away. Sergio kept his eyes on him until he was out of his sight.

 

*

 

The look on Sami’s face was, well, indescribable when he found his baby cousin in the dining room when he got back from work. He actually babbled (almost in tears) that the boy got home in one piece, but Lena noticed that he was one fuller piece by the time he arrived. She didn’t cook today, she mentioned something about getting started on her work, and they went to eat out. Sami brought them to this fine German restaurant (he guaranteed its authenticity) and Mesut believed he had never ate that much before. A part of him missed his homeland food, though he found himself fantasizing about Mrs. Ramos’ amazing banana chocolate tart.

 

He told them about his trip over a big piece of black forest excitedly, taking out some details he assumed would be unnecessary and Sami looked pleased while Lena stared at him with a knowing look. The couple reminisced about their trip there too, Lena laughed as she told Mesut that one of Sergio’s horses was not so fond of Sami regardless of what the owner thought of the German. Sami only snorted and shared his decent version of the experience regarding to the sweet-as-ever Mrs. Ramos who, just like Mesut expected, treated him like a family while attacking him with her unstoppable Andalusian dialect and kisses.

 

They left right after the meal, Mesut’s belly was full and he was warm at the thought of a nice hot shower before going to bed, but just before he could flee, Lena practically dragged him into the kitchen when Sami headed upstairs. He could see the gleam in her beautiful eyes and her vibrant, infectious smile that curled up the corners of his own lips.

 

“What?” He asked nervously.

 

“Come on, _Schatzi_ ,” Lena chuckled, “Something good happened, right? Between you and that guy.”

 

Mesut’s cheeks automatically flushed beet red and he was not quick enough to hide it, “Nothing happened, Lena.”

 

“Oh, come on. I told you it’s okay, didn’t I?” gently the older woman tugged him over to the counter and they both sat down on the stools, “I just have to make sure you’re okay. I know that it’s okay if you decided you go out with Sergio or something, but Sami’s rants started to get into me a few days ago. _Tia_ was visiting her family in Valencia until next week, that’s why I started on my work again to prevent further pollution from Sami.” She pouted, but she did sound genuinely worried.

 

“I’m okay, Len. Sergio’s family’s been awesome and he’s be great.” He smiled shyly.

 

“So…you two are officially…?” Lena’s voice sounded careful, though her hand remained gentle on Mesut’s.

 

“No.” the younger one licked his lip nervously and looked at her, “We…we do share something more than friendship, but we’re not...” Lena nodded, almost sympathetically, but she did not seem to find enough reason not to bash Sergio. She was one of a very few people Mesut knew who wasn’t able to bad-mouth others, but he still found it weird. He thought talking with her would actually get him support in his current funny relationship, but her face was still. Not smiling, but not resenting the fact she just heard either. Mesut tilted his head a little at her, “You…you don’t think it’s weird?”

 

“What?” Lena was taken aback, but then she smiled and patted the boy’s soft hair, “No, _Schatzi_. Listen, maybe this is not a familiar concept for you, but sometimes that kind of thing happens.” She leaned back onto the counter with her eyes lingering on the ceiling, “I guess I’ve known him enough to tell you that you might be in a safe spot at this moment. Sergio never really had a healthy concept of relationship as far as I know him.”

 

Mesut quirked his eyebrows, “Huh?”

 

“I don’t even know if he had ever been in any kind of relationship longer than a week or two before.” She sighed lightly, “I can’t understand Sami’s paranoia, but I do get why he’s so worked up when Sergio is suddenly all over you. He also told me he never knew him as a man capable of maintaining a relationship. It was always series of one-night stands or different dates every week. Can’t say that I didn’t worry my ass off when you told us about the horse-riding thing, it was hard for me to assure myself that it wasn’t a euphemism.” Mesut blushed hard at that, both at Lena’s statement and his own rather… _stimulating_ experience on that department. “It went well, I guess, that he didn’t put any label on it.”

 

“I guess…?” Mesut mumbled, “He…he did say that he’ll see me again soon and that it’s okay to contact him.”

 

Lena practically gaped before she realized what she was doing and pursed her lips as if in wonder. “That…sounds nice, actually.” She could barely hide her awe that it bugged Mesut a little.

 

“Is he really that bad, Len? I thought you have nothing against him.”

 

“I don’t, Mes. It’s just…” she pondered for a moment and laughed a little, “It’s just it’s a new thing for me to hear and it sounds nice. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up, darling.” She patted Mesut’s shoulder and got up from her seat, “Now you should take a bath and rest. We can talk again tomorrow when Sami is not around, okay?”

 

Mesut nodded. _And I can make a list of things to ask before our next meeting_.

 

*

 

The next day Mesut woke up later than usual, regretting it as headache hit him quite hard and he spent more time on the bed groaning and weeping. After he felt a little better, he crawled out of the bed and did not even bother going to the bathroom first. Checking his phone, he was surprised that it was almost lunchtime, but he didn’t have any plan and Lena sure would understand his laziness. He went down and straight to the kitchen to get some juice and sat down on a stool. He sipped his juice, waited for the headache to cease slowly, and looked around. There was something weird. Lena was _not_ in the kitchen.

 

He got up from his seat and walked out of the kitchen, checking the front porch, the living room; Lena was nowhere to be found. Where could she be? As he walked back to the dining room, he saw Lena running down the stairs lightly. He had to blink a few times, he couldn’t recall if he had seen Lena without her beautifully painted lips and her fashionable dresses before because he almost didn’t recognize the pretty German woman in front of him, dressed in an old shirt with speckles of paint and torn jeans yet she still looked as gorgeous if not more.

 

“L-Lena?” he was startled.

 

“There you are!” the girl skipped her steps, “I checked your room but you’re not there, so I guess you’re up already! I totally forgot about lunch today!” She laughed and the younger boy could see a blotch of red paint on her cheek and all over her hands. “Are you hungry? I know a good takeout—is it okay to just eat a takeout?” she walked over to the phone on the wall in the dining room and flipped a used phonebook on the three-legged table below it.

 

“Y-yeah. It’s okay.” He stared at her in awe as she found the number she was looking for and dialed it on the phone.

 

“Sami found this cool Italian restaurant a few years ago. It’s decent enough and they do delivery.” She grinned as she waited for someone to pick up.

 

Mesut nodded and pulled a chair on the dining table to sit down. He looked at Lena’s rather…unusual attire today. She did mention about doing her work yesterday, was that it? He just realized he didn’t know anything about her job, he had always thought that she ended her modeling career since she moved here. She looked great though and she seemed to enjoy whatever she was doing. She hanged up and turned to him with a big grin.

 

“I ordered pizza with extra cheese!” she giggled and reached for the nearest stool to sit down.

 

“Btw, I don’t know that you’re working. What do you do, painting?” Mesut curiously asked.

 

“Oh,” she glanced at her hands and chuckled, “I was working on some sketches and got too carried on and painted them. I’m a part-time photographer.” She grinned, “I only make studio photos, mostly used for book covers and such. Sometimes I photograph products. Nothing fancy.” She shrugged.

 

“Oh.” Mesut chuckled. It was pretty cute somehow.

 

“Anyway, what happened in Sevilla?” her eyes gleamed in sheer curiosity, “Tell me the details.”

 

Mesut told her about everything, skipped some details he’d rather keep for himself. He started with the horse-riding lesson, might have slipped a little too much information on how nervous he was to see Sergio stripped, about how things grew weird, how he woke up one day with Sergio holding him and how he found it in himself to stop running and deal with his feelings. Lena had been a good listener and kept an unreadable expression, Mesut felt like to curse her undying ability as a model to keep such a pokerface.

 

“Well…that’s all that happened.” He leaned back on his stool and shrugged, “I’ve told you most of it, that’s all that happened and yes, I admit it, I _like_ him, okay?” he pouted a little, cheeks flushed but his eyes showed determination.

 

“I’m not gonna’ say anything.” Lena shrugged, the smile was back on her face. “It’s just…well, weird. The first time I met you, I’ve never thought that I’m going to see you like this. Big and strong. I like it.”

 

“Don’t tease me.” Mesut sunk on his seat, he felt his face was getting hotter.

 

“I did not, _Schatzi_. You see, even Sami is not like that.” She chuckled, “I mean, he is a late bloomer. When I first got here, it took him three months to finally propose me and it only happened after he was pushed to the edge.” Her smile was gentle, she sounded so nostalgic. Mesut remembered Sergio mentioned something like that before. “He came to me in the middle of night, I just finished packing to go back to German, and I found him in front of the door, kneeling.” she tugged on the thin silver chain around her neck and showed Mesut something that was attached to it—not exactly a ring or a pendant.

 

“What the—“

 

“Yes, Sami Khedira proposed me with a acrylic keychain.” She waved the pink rose shaped keychain gently, “Bought it for € 3 at the gift shop in the hotel. Couldn’t find his mother’s ring, he said in defense, but he found it for our wedding day, thank goodness.” She flashed the emerald ring on her right ring finger, smiling cheekily.

 

“Wow. I’ve never heard of that.” Mesut laughed.

 

“Yes, he’s that much of a wimp.” Lena sighed as she observed her wedding ring off-mindedly, “What I’m saying is, you shouldn’t let things go just because of risks. I mean, of course you should at some points, but not before you try it.” She shifted on her seat and leaned forward on the table, chin rested on her hands, “Make sure you’re really after this, you’re aware of the risks. You might always fail, but along with it, you’ll only grow stronger.”

 

Mesut smiled shyly at her, “I wish I’m just as optimistic as you are, but I’ll try.” He shrugged.

 

“Of course you will.” The older one made a funny face, “I didn’t survive leaving my modeling career by indulging myself with Sami’s love 24/7, I survive because I want to and I find a way how not to stay idle.” She got up from her seat and shrugged a little, “Maybe a little bit with his love sometimes.”

 

Mesut laughed and they heard the bell rang from the front door.

 

“That must be our lunch!” Lena squealed excitedly and bounced towards the door, making Mesut laugh harder.

 

*

 

Before he went to sleep, his phone buzzed and he found a message from Sergio.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Hi, hope you’re not asleep yet,_ chiquito.

 

Mesut didn’t even know where the speed came from as he replied the older man quickly.

 

_To: Sergio_

_I’m not. I thought I’d be the one to text you first._

 

He pressed the phone against his lips, waiting. He could feel the heat on his cheeks up to his ears, the grin that could tear his face in half, and expectations that caused his stomach to flutter. He just realized he had never texted Sergio before, how much of a coward he was, he thought. Always waiting for the older man to make the first move, he now knew how much he had lost over his sometimes overwhelming shyness. His phone buzzed again and he quickly checked it.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I guess I just can’t wait.  
Will you watch my next performance? W/o Sami, preferably. ;)_

 

Mesut chuckled and tapped his thumbs over his touchscreen.

 

_To: Sergio_

_I don’t know. I’ll try._

 

She sighed and put the phone right over his heart, waiting. It buzzed again and he read the text quickly.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Figure smth out. We can have dinner afterwards._  
  


 

Mesut bit his lower lip.

 

_To: Sergio_

_That sounds good._

 

He waited again and wondered, should he slow down like he did when to his highschool crushes? His phone buzzed again and he completely forgot what he just wondered about.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I’d like to have you over at my place sometime.  
Just to hang out._

 

The boy believed he had never felt this kind of a strong urge to bury his face into the pillow and howled, which he did, from a simple text message. He looked at it to make sure he didn’t read it wrong and he obviously did not. He wasn’t sure how to react or reply, he had to calm down. His heartbeat became erratic and it felt so warm everywhere, he just couldn’t help it. Slowly and carefully (he did not want to mistype or show his nervousness) he typed his reply.

 

_To: Sergio_

_I’d love to. I guess…:p_

 

He hit the ‘send’ button and buried his face into his pillow once again, almost flailing. Once again his phone went off.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Good to hear that. I’ll see you soon_. _  
_Buenas noches, bebé.

 

Mesut sighed and made a small, weird sound that was foreign even to his own ears but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to see Sergio again.

 

*

 

 


	9. A kiss or two (or more)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things might not be as easy as anyone hopes it to be, but Mesut will carry on. A little Sami/Lena action corrupted poor Mesut though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAYED UPDATE. It's been almost a month, OH MY GOD.
> 
> I've been busy with school. So many novels to read, theories to study, so little time. Also, I haven't finished Mesut's birthday fic and now we also have Sergio's sex riot. Those life-ruiners need to slow down. (Seriously though, Men's Health is getting unhealthier for women's ovaries)
> 
> So, here it is! Un-beta-ed as usual, silly as usual, messy as usual. I don't like it when I rush things, but I need to write this part to get the story moving (fast). I hope you can at least enjoy it. See you guys around!

The _Plaza El Toro_ was packed when Mesut got there, but he managed to find the gate Sami got him in through the first time and saw Sergio already waiting for him there with his usual unnecessary disguise. The Spaniard beamed at him and quickly sneaked him into the building. Mesut tailed him in silence, a silly smile was on his face as he listened to the older man’s quick chatter. He tailed Sergio into his changing room and finally the blonde haired man decided to take his stupid coat and shades off.

 

“I hate doing this.” He referred to his disguising kit with a pout, Mesut was struck once again by the fact of how handsome Sergio really was with his hair tied back, and three buttons of his olive green shirt unbuttoned. Beneath the ridiculous disguise, he was as handsome as ever, even more that he was now clean from any of his daily stubbles (he refused to do that back in Sevilla; it looked great on him though). Now with his stupid costume off, he looked like his usual gorgeous self that Mesut gaped a little. Sergio chuckled at his face and tugged the German’s wrist a little to pull him closer, “Stop looking like that, you’re way too appetizing for a hungry wolf to eat.”

 

Mesut clamped his mouth shut and blushed, “Sorry.”

 

Sergio’s eyes were gentle on him as he ruffled his silky hair, “How did you manage to sneak out today?”

 

The younger man shrugged, “Sami is working. Also, Lena helped, so it wasn’t that hard.”

 

“Good.” Sergio nodded, “What time should I get you home?” he cupped the boy’s small, beautiful face, fighting he boyish charm that he found so enticing.

 

“Dinnertime.” Mesut’s voice was now a whisper as he looked into the depth of the brown eyes locked on his, feeling his cheeks heated.

 

“I can’t wait to have you all for myself again.” He let his hands feel to the boy’s slender hips, “Without my mom or Daniela around…” he then circled his arms around him and pulled him closer, pressing his body against the smaller one. Mesut’s heart beat faster as Sergio took one of his hands in his own and brought it up for him to gently kiss; the German believed his heart almost stopped once the older man’s  warm and soft, plush lips brushed the back of his hand almost feather-like. His face turned beet red and Sergio smiled, “Are you excited about Ibiza, _chico_?”

 

“Yeah.” Mesut stuttered with a small smile. It was hard not to imagine him and Sergio spending their own time in private, just the two of them, eating, talking, touching…and further touching. He couldn’t believe how his hormones were raging in him at the very thought of this gorgeous matador; it was unfair that Sergio could control his so much better. He envied that ability to keep calm or to, at least, keep the complexion of his own way-too-pale face stable. Maybe he should get a tan or something, maybe he wouldn’t blush too much that way.

 

“It will be.” Sergio chuckled and moved away, Mesut had to pretend he didn’t mourn over the loss of the other’s warmth. “I got you the same spot for today and I will take you out afterwards, okay?”

 

Mesut smiled widely at him, “Alright.”

 

*

 

The bullfighting ended in a flash, Mesut clapped his hands as he watched Sergio bowed to the audience, saluting them. He watched as some people threw flowers—mostly roses—into the arena, cheering loudly for his performance Mesut was rather reluctant to pay attention to as he found the older man’s movements were rather distracting. He moved as if he was dancing, his feet were light and relaxed as he moved around the giant bulls; it was almost as if it was choreographed. He looked sure, concentration in his eyes and in the tiny scowl on his forehead, forming a brooding feature of a man that caught the German’s attention the first time he sat here.

 

Sergio walked back through the gate he walked out from, still saluting his audience. Mesut couldn’t believe it ended so quickly; in the arena, he could see the side of Sergio’s he had never seen up close. His focus, his brooding feature, his scowl, his intriguing side that had slain countless beasts with elegance and calmness in his every movement; he was almost unrecognizable. Looking at his side, he watched two beautiful girls (scantily dressed, he just had to take a note on that) getting up from their seats not too far from him. They really were lookers and they obviously were head-over-heels on the performer they just watched, excitedly talking in Spanish, but Mesut could still caught ‘Sergio’ and ‘Ramos’ here and there.

 

He reached for his water bottle and took a sip. It hit him suddenly that he was in a position that he was unsure of. No matter how attracted he was to Sergio, he couldn’t deny that those girls were positively good looking with racks that normally would excite him, but he felt none of it. He simply blinked at the realization and turned his head to see those girls going through the exit, only to ponder; did this happen to Sergio too?

 

He knew the matador’s record with women (and now, with men as well), to move from preferences to preferences was not as simple as it seemed. It used to be a fight for him back then when he realized his attraction to Miroslav, a war even. He found it preposterous due to the fact that it hadn’t been too long since he actually learnt to move on from Lira. However, he grew tired of the war in his own head and let it go, he let himself to move along with the flow and today he found himself drawn to the irresistible charm of Sergio Ramos. The process was rather peaceful compared to the first time he tried to accept himself; it was less of a torture, but he knew people were different. Like Thomas, it was not easy for some people to just accept.

 

Sergio did fare with men (a few, from what Mario and further researches told him); he saw no burden for the Spaniard in doing it. He was a beautiful man, everyone would want a piece of that, and now he _wanted_ some of it to. Craved. He was not sure where he was standing though, along with those people or right next to Sergio? For all he knew, he might be as well down there, far below them. What exactly was Sergio looking for in him? Was it his body?

 

For the first time ever, the thought of Sergio touching him made him shiver in an unpleasant way. He had been trying to push that thought away. If the man was after his body, he could do it very easily since day one and Mesut would not fight back; who wouldn’t want Sergio, really? But then Sergio was only a man and a man had needs which, as far as he knew, were unfulfilled since they met. They met quite often and it had been almost two weeks, it was weird if he did not but would be upsetting if he did. He was not sure, he should try to rest his brain for a second or two, it started to blur his view once again and he did not like it. Maybe he was tired, maybe it was the heat.

 

He got up from his seat and walked through the exit, heading to Sergio’s changing room slowly. It was less crowded in his track, only some staffs and VIP guests lingering around the hall. They ignored him and he paid them no mind until he reached the hall where the changing rooms were located. He stopped his track as his eyes fell on Sergio, a perfect smile on his face, his hair was messy (in a very attractive way), and he was talking to none other than the two girls he previously saw. He decided to watch, how shrill their giggles were, how one of the girls (the brunette) touched Sergio’s arm gently, how they laughed at something Sergio said, how charming the blonde man was.

 

The other girl (the blonde one) giggled before she said something to the brunette, and the brunette half-heartedly released Sergio’s arm (he couldn’t really blame them; that white ruffled shirt really looked marvelous on his well-built body) and said something to Sergio. The matador smiled and nodded, saying something and took the brunette’s hand in his, pulled it closer, and gave it a chaste kiss with his eyes still on hers.

 

Mesut would be lying if he said he was okay with it; those were the same lips that kissed his hand only a few hours ago, the very same lips he had been hoping would be on his sometime soon. He found it hard to keep watching, yet harder to tear his eyes away from the scene. The brunette flushed, but she grinned happily as she reluctantly dragged her hand away and the blonde one said something. Sergio finally waved at them and they were gone. Forever, Mesut hoped. He would never want to see that brunette anywhere near Sergio again. _Ever_.

 

“Mesut!” Sergio’s voice brought him back from his reverie and he saw the Spaniard smiled widely, sauntering over to his spot where his feet were glued to, and he touched his shoulder gently. “What have you been doing? I was waiting for you, I thought you got lost.” He chuckled and suddenly paused. Mesut felt a warm palm cupping his left cheek and a callused, gentle finger touched his forehead. “What’s with this little scowl, _chiquito_?”

 

Mesut blinked, “Uh. Nothing.”

 

“Ease it up or else you’ll get wrinkly.” Sergio grinned and wrapped his arm around the German’s shoulders, “Come on. I’ll get changed and we’ll go somewhere. I won’t be long, okay?”

 

Mesut tried to smile at him, “Sure.”

 

*

 

Sergio did not know whether it was just him or Mesut really was distancing himself in all of sudden. No matter how much he wanted to just ignore it, he did not like the look on the German’s beautiful face. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts and sometimes he missed what Sergio just said, giving a small apologetic smile, and then got himself lost again. He drove them to Canalejas Square and parked in front of a random pastry shop. Mesut turned his eyes at him and looked around. It was almost dark, but not too late yet.

 

“Are we here?” he asked timidly. Sergio used to recognize that voice of his, it was the voice Mesut would use to talk to him before Sevilla. He admitted that he was fond of that soft, gentle voice, but it made him feel like a stranger around the younger boy.

 

“Yeah. I know Lena will shove her food down your throat if you won’t eat, so let’s just have some tea or something.” He smiled vibrantly at Mesut, which the boy replied with another one. He couldn’t help but to think that the boy faked it, but Mesut was already climbing out of the car.

 

Sergio went out of the car and led Mesut to a café across the road. He took a safe hold on Mesut’s arm just in case and found no resistance. It was getting weird, he thought. The boy was leaning to his touch, he was not stiff, but he was not quite there. He decided to get them into a more secluded place and they went into the café. They went up to the second floor and found an empty table in a corner in the balcony area. The soft, cool breeze of Madrid’s evening hit their faces gently as they sat down and placed their orders. The waiter was quick to leave them and Sergio turned his focus on Mesut.

 

“Are you tired, _chico_? You sure you don’t want to eat anything?”

 

“I’m okay, Sergio.” Mesut chuckled, “I’m just…well, it might be the heat.” He shrugged nonchalantly and fiddled with his thumbs on the table.

 

“You didn’t enjoy my performance today then?” Sergio tried to get his attention back, playfully pouting and he was glad he did when Mesut laughed.

 

“You were amazing. The crowd loves you.” He tilted his head slightly, “Your fans love you.”

 

Sergio faked a sad face, “Don’t you?”

 

“Stop it.” Mesut bashfully reached for his hand on the table and gave him a pinch. Sergio laughed and captured his wrist and pinned it against the table.

 

“Seriously, you don’t seem to be happy around me. What’s up?”

 

“It’s nothing.” He didn’t want to sound clingy, but he it slipped out and Sergio gave him a look. He sighed and touched Sergio’s fingers with his gently, prying them from his wrist. “Obviously you’re so popular around here,”

 

Almost smugly Sergio grinned, “Obviously.”

 

“And among women.” Mesut’s cheeks turned pink at this and he focused on Sergio’s bigger hand as he cradled it in his hands.

 

Sergio stared momentarily at him, confused, but before he could speak, the previous waiter came over with their orders. He placed down a plate of club sandwich, iced lemon tea, and Earl Grey tea. Sergio was a tad bit hungry, but he could find none of his appetite after hearing Mesut’s last statement and looked at the younger boy for an answer.

 

“That brunette in front of your room,” Mesut did his best not to sound jealous or anything, but he couldn’t control the heat that was spreading on his cheeks, “She’s gorgeous.”

 

Sergio had to scowl for a second before he realized what Mesut was talking about and laughed, “Pilar is a friend.” He tilted his head to one side to find Mesut’s eyes, “An old friend. She’s a fan of bullfighting.”

 

“I know I shouldn’t have said anything.” Mesut groaned and buried his face into his arms.

 

“Relax. It’s kinda’ the reaction I’m hoping for.” The Spaniard ruffled the boy’s hair from across the table, grinning cheerfully. He was relieved that it was nothing serious and at least Mesut could talk about this kind of thing to him; it was rather nice.

 

“It’s embarrassing.” Mesut grabbed Sergio’s hand on him and pinched him again. Sami would’ve slapped his hand whenever he does this, but Sergio only winced and laughed as he did. “I can’t seem to understand why a you’re interested in spending your time with me when there are a lot more gorgeous people ogling over you.” He added, “Unless you’re pedophiliac.”

 

Sergio almost spat the iced lemon tea he just sipped and stared at the boy, “What have they told you at school, seriously?”

 

“I’m serious.” He pinched his hand again, Sergio winced again. “You can always take any of those pretty girls and get on with it. It’s just…what _exactly_ are you looking for in being around me?”

 

Sergio eyes were gentle on him and he smiled thinly. “Do I need a reason?” his voice was calm and smooth. He moved his fingers to interlace with Mesut’s loosely, caressing the soft, warm skin tenderly. “I just want to know you better, to spend my time with you. Sometimes I have my own fear, I do think a lot at times.” He squeezed the boy’s hand mildly, “But then, hey, I love doing this. I love having you around. I don’t really care where this is going to, but I’m gonna’ treasure it a lot, and that I know for sure.”

 

The concept was foreign for Mesut; he remembered what Lena told him and it might be, after all, a good thing. There would always be two sides of a coin, it could be good but it might be unpleasant as well. He had yet revealed what kind of a man Sergio was, it wasn’t all that weird that everything was still blurry even up to this moment, but he couldn’t possibly misinterpret Sergio’s sincerity in his voice and gestures. He, too, agreed that this would be one of the things he treasured, no matter where it would lead them to.

 

“Whatever it is, I’m hoping more of it.” He mumbled as he leaned forward and placed a small, quick kiss on Sergio’s fingers. “Just so you know.”

 

Sergio looked a little surprised at Mesut’s sudden act of affection. He had to take a deep breath, the need to abduct this boy and keep him for all himself suddenly rose within him, and he chuckled at the thought. “One of these days I should get you to a more secluded place. Maybe I should get you staying overnight or something.” At the darkening of Mesut’s cheeks, he quickly added, “Snuggling with you feels nice and we can’t possibly have that in public, no?”

 

“Yeah, right.” He pulled his hands gently from Sergio’s, he couldn’t help but to actually expect something more. “Snuggling.”

 

*

 

Sergio drove him home on time, making him flustered as he, once again, giving his hand a kiss; warmer and longer as if he was reluctant to let go (Mesut liked to think that though). After a promise of another meeting, he drove away and Mesut went into the house, fluttery feeling in his tummy and uncontrollable heartbeat against his chest. He paused in front of the door to calm down, he couldn’t risk Sami asking why he looked so flustered up to his ears or Lena bragging him with more questions when all he wanted to do was to bury his face into a pillow and squeal like a hopeless romantic teenager he had turned to be.

 

He went into the house, saying ‘I’m home’ loudly, expecting to find his cousins in the dining room, but he heard no reply. He walked in and checked the dining room, the kitchen; they were nowhere to be found. Amidst of his own confusion, he heard a mild thud from the living room and stalked towards it.

 

“Lena?” he called as he reached the half-closed arched doorway and turned his gaze to the sofa and yelped, “OH MY GOD!”

 

“Mesut!”

 

He quickly retreated and hid behind the arched door, his cheeks flushed. He just saw Sami. Sami and Lena. On each other. With different states of undress. He covered his own face with his hands; that wasn’t something he would ever want to see.

 

“Mes-wait-no-“ he heard Lena’s soft (sort of breathless) voice and clothes rustling softly.

 

He stood still. He would never go into that room again. Ever.

 

“Mes,” Lena appeared from the door, her blonde hair was ruffled and she was—oh, God—she was still buttoning her blouse. Mesut refused to look at her, he was far too embarrassed.

 

“I’msosorry—I didn’t know…I called out, no reply…” he stuttered.

 

“Hey, hey. Relax.” Lena reached for him, but she was reluctant to touch him. “It’s okay…uh…we thought…um…we thought you’ll be home later and…” she sounded guilty as hell too and it made Mesut more and more uncomfortable. Not a second later, Sami came out of the living room with messy hair and unbuttoned shirt. Mesut wished he could die right there and then.

 

“I’m just—going to bed-“

 

“Mes, don’t be like that.” Sami almost whined, he sounded nervous as well. “We’re sorry, we didn’t hear you. We didn’t mean to. Please don’t go awkward on us?”

 

Mesut took a step back, still couldn’t bring himself to face his cousins, “I shouldn’t have-“

 

“No, _Schatzi_ , no harm done.” Lena tried to soothe the youngest of the three since Sami didn’t seem to manage well to do that, “We were…quite…done…and…uh, we didn’t hear you, so…it’s okay, alright?” she managed to sound so gentle and calm, it was quite surprising even for the freaking out Mesut.

 

The boy nodded slowly, eyes still on the floor, “Yes. I guess.” He mumbled, “But now…I’m going upstairs. And, uh…you guys…just…carry on.” He dashed towards the stairs, trying not to look as hurried as he meant to be and went into his bedroom in a flash.

 

_What the hell was that?_

He shouldn’t be _that_ surprised; Lena and Sami were together after all. It was weird that Sami was almost like a big brother for him and Lena had become more and more of a good friend of his. It was just… _weird_.

 

He paused his train of thought and blinked. Maybe it was how it felt like for Sami to see Sergio lingering around him. Maybe that was why he was against the idea of Sergio befriending him, not because the man was a boy predator or the likes. Maybe he had been reading too much into it; it was weird to actually reveal that side of Sami and Lena no matter how normal it was. That was just how things should go between couples; he totally missed that and let his shock to take over. He might’ve overreacted and felt a little bad. Calming down, he sat on his bed. It was totally normal, it was only a shock that he had to witness it firsthand. It was normal.

 

Sex was something normal, something that normal couple had and it was totally normal. He did not know about couples that were not normal, Sergio and him wasn’t normal (he didn’t even think that they were actually an item) and he was somewhat thankful. He was reminded of his tiny wishful thinking at the café this evening; he didn’t admit it, but he did hope that he’d experience that with Sergio. He just realized that he might be not ready yet. He had seen porn before, but to see the real thing today, it seemed to be more of a big deal than how they show it in those lewd movies. It wasn’t only about pleasing one another. From what he just saw, it seemed more sacred than that.

 

He shook his head and took a deep breath. He had let his brain worked harder than it usually did again. He decided to go to freshen up and show his face to his cousin. He’d show them that he was okay with it. Who knows that Sami would be okay with him and Sergio too.

 

*


	10. Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's lonely when you have no one to be with when your sort-of-a-boyfriend can't be around and you're a foreigner in the city, but someone might be aware of your loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Finally we're on the 10th chapter! Thank you for being around, guys, I appreciate it a lot. 
> 
> Personally, this chapter excites me to no end. I just...guh! I didn't even expect the surprise appearance of this character, but I love it. :p
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy. I hope you'd love where this is going. <3

After breakfast, Mesut didn’t feel like to do anything and stayed in his room reading some football magazines he found at the nearby newspaper stand. Well, not _reading_ it; it was more looking at the pictures and tried to figure out what was happening with his favorite teams. It turned out he only recognized simple words and vocabularies, some were relatable to his own mother tongue and it went quite well, he thought. Flipping the pages, he thought about the other day when he sneaked out. The day after that Sergio called him and they chatted, yesterday they texted each other all day, and today he hadn’t got any call or text from the older man. He did, however, texted him this morning, but there was no reply. He pouted at the thought and put the magazine away.

 

He climbed onto his bed and reached for his phone. He checked it but there was no new text message. He rolled on the bed, looking at the stuffed animal at the end of it looking back at him (or so he thought since he was not sure if that fluffy, yellow round thing was an animal at all). He glared at it, felt like he was being judged. It wasn’t as if he was being jealous or anything, it was just he had no idea how busy a matador could be without any performance today. When he called him a day ago, he said that he was at Rene’s, playing with Daniela (Mesut spoke with Daniela afterwards though he only understood half of the things the girl talked about) and yesterday he said he was still at Rene’s, he stayed overnight. Whatever business he was having today could not possibly family-related then.

 

Sighing, he rolled and buried his face into a pillow. A second later, he heard a knock and Lena peeked in from the door. He lifted up his head and smiled, “Hi, Len.”

 

“You’ve been here all morning, aren’t you bored?” she asked as she took a step into the room.

 

“I _am_ bored.” He mumbled.

 

“No worries, on Saturday we’ll take you somewhere nice.” She said as she plopped onto the bed, looking at her cousin’s face. She knew that no matter how exciting it would be, it wasn’t something that Mesut hoped for though and she knew it. She did notice how Mesut had been beaming at his phone for the past two days, she thought she knew why he didn’t look so today. “How’s Sergio doing?”

 

In a flick of fingers, Mesut frowned again and sighed. “I don’t know. Working?” he replied in a muffled voice.

 

Lena smiled, “I’m sure he’ll reply your text soon.”

 

Mesut snapped his head to Lena, his cheeks were crimson, “I don’t-“ Lena’s knowing smile cut him off and he buried his face into his pillow again, “I mean, I don’t want to disturb him. And…Idontwanttoactlikeagirl.”

 

Lena leaned closer, “Excuse me?”

 

“No offense, but I don’t understand why girls nag when we don’t reply their call or texts, not even now.” He paused momentarily, “But, yeah…it’s rather…annoying.”

 

“Relax,” Lena giggled, “It’s still early and it seems like a good day to go to the park. Why don’t you go outside and have a stroll?”

 

Mesut contemplated for a moment. That actually sounded kind of nice.

 

*

 

He walked among food stands and shops along the road; it really was a nice day. It wasn’t too hot and the sky was clear, it made him feel a lot better. He treated himself with a scoop of chocolate ice cream, checking bookstores, and some cool-looking stores. He went from one store to another, observing handmade accessories that caught his attention, contemplating to buy one, but he put it back on its place. He went into another store—a bookstore this time.

 

Actually, he was not fond of reading; he’d rather run all day in the field, playing football with his friends than reading a whole book. His grades in language and literature classes disappointed his mother to no end just because, but he did love books, especially the ones with pictures. He also loved how cozy bookstores and library were, always so silent and vaguely smelt like paper, old and new, and wood (oddly, this one smelt kind of like sandalwood). He went from bookcase to bookcase, inspecting old-looking books. He took one that looked really old with a hardcover; it was clean, but the title had faded and the edges of the papers were moldy. He flipped it open and read a sentence of an unusual language.

 

He frowned a little; it looked familiar, like Spanish, but it was not exactly Spanish. At least not the Spanish he knew. He did not know why, but he took the book to the nearest empty couch and sat down. He flipped another page and saw a medieval looking map of a land that looked slightly like Spain, but it was not exactly Spain. Maybe it was a history book. He flipped some more pages and found more pictures of people who seemed to be royal members of some kingdom.

 

Suddenly he felt a pair of eyes watching him and he automatically looked around. The store was mostly empty except for a pair of elderly men, two shopkeepers, and a few random people—but then he saw him. That guy stood behind the bookcase next to him, sneakily looking at him from among the books he was pretending to check. Mesut blinked as their gaze met and the man flushed slightly, a small smile was formed on his lips and it was Mesut’s turn to blush. Shyly he smiled back and he went back to the book on his lap.

 

What was that? He hadn’t had many people looking at him that way (Sergio was one of them), stealing glances at him like that, or even noticing him at all. He thought he was rather plain looking today, he did not even brush his hair. Or maybe that was it? Maybe his hair looked funny on him and that was why that man was staring. Out of his own self-consciousness, he tried to brush his bangs off his face though it was futile. He heard a muffled chuckle, suspecting that it came from that guy on the other side of the bookcase and unconsciously he pursed his lips. _What’s with that guy?_

 

Curious, he closed the book on his lap and tried to peek at the man from the narrow space on the bookcase, but it wasn’t that much of use. Sighing, he leaned back on the couch and took his phone out and checked for text or missed call. _Nada_.

 

“Hello.”

 

Mesut looked up from his seat and he found a young man towering him; he recognized those friendly eyes from a few minutes ago and he came to realization. He tried to smile a little, “Hi.”

 

“Uh,” the man scratched behind his ear awkwardly, but the smile was still present. Looking at him closer, Mesut realized that the man did not seem to be too much older than himself, maybe only a few years older, but he was kinda’ bigger than Mesut (he suddenly felt too lanky being around this guy). He had his hair shaved; his small grin showed Mesut white crooked teeth that made him look sort of like a bunny in the weirdest sense (there couldn’t be any bunny this big). His thick eyebrows defined his soft feature and his eyes were dark chocolate in color and warm. He was fairly good-looking and Mesut suddenly felt more self-conscious. “I…actually noticed that book you have…and…” his English was thick with a foreign accent and he sounded a little nervous but he pulled it well. Mesut waited with a wider smile, hoping that it’d encourage the man and it apparently did. “Well…I was looking for it a while ago…may I…?”

 

“Oh,” Mesut touched the book on his lap, “Yeah. Sure thing.”  He gave the book to the man and stood up, “I’m going anyway-“

 

“No—I mean—no, please,” the taller man cut him off, weighing the book in his hands, “I…well…oh, fuck it,” Mesut was a little surprised at that, but then the man offered him his hand, “My name is Karim. Please don’t think bad of me, but I saw you coming and going from one bookstore to another yesterday and wondered if you’ll come here again and you did, so…yeah.” Mesut blinked and stared in awe while Karim’s hand was left alone hanging in the air. Karim winced as if he just realized what he did, “It sounds _that_ bad, huh?”

 

Mesut quickly shook his hand, “No, no, not at all. I’m sorry.” He blushed as he felt how soft the other man’s palm was against his, but his fingertips were callused. “I’m Mesut. I’m sorry, people don’t usually come up to me and introduce themselves like…that.” He felt even smaller now that Karim squeezed his hand; it was a handshake made of steel.

 

“I actually am wondering why you’re always alone.” He laughed bashfully and then bit his tongue, “No. Wait. Forget that.”

 

Mesut chuckled, “It’s okay. I don’t have many friends around here, so I walk around by myself a lot.”

 

“Ah…I actually noticed that you’re not from here.” Karim carefully said, “But I swear to you, I’m not a stalker. I just found it curious.”

 

“I believe you.” Mesut laughed and sat back down. Karim followed his suit and sat on the empty space next to him, flipping the book open. Mesut glanced at him and suddenly he was interested, “You can read that?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a part of my study,” Karim smiled at him, he sounded more at ease when he mentioned about his study, “I’m studying Spanish Language and Literature at a university not too far from here.”

 

“Wow, sounds cool. I won’t be able to handle that if I were you.” Mesut crossed his arms and smiled at the older man, “But what I read in that book doesn’t seem like the Spanish I know.”

 

“Of course not, it’s Catalan.” Karim explained, “It’s historical stuff I’m not so keen about, not that interesting anyway.” He closed the book and turned to the other boy, “Say, Mesut, where are you from?”

 

“I’m German,” Mesut replied, “and let me guess, you’re French aren’t you?”

 

“ _Oui_. I know my accent is impossible to erase.” Karim chuckled; Mesut liked how those eyes of his would twinkle when he laughs. It was somewhat adorable. “And you’re here for holiday?”

 

“Yeah. But I guess this is not so much a holiday, I mean…” Mesut sighed, “I spend my time going from one shop to another, what is that exactly?” he grinned at Karim and they both laughed. Suddenly Mesut’s phone buzzed and he picked it up to find a new text message popped up.

 

_From: Sergio_

 

 _Hello,_ bebé _. How are you doing?  
I’m so sorry, I’ve been busy with those shits my manager put me up for. Now I’m done, where are you right now? I want to see you._

Mesut could feel his cheeks heated up to his ears and he quickly typed his reply. Sergio really knew the best times to text Mesut and made him feel restless in all of sudden in the middle of a bookstore and next to a literature scholar he just met where he couldn’t possibly make any sound.

 

_To: Sergio_

 

_I’m good. It’s cool, I didn’t even notice.  
I’m at that bookstore near the flea market, the old one. Where do you want to meet up?_

 

He clicked ‘send’ and sighed. He knew he shouldn’t have been bothered to say anything about him not texting him back all day, but anyway. He suddenly felt very excited to see Sergio again. He really couldn’t control his wide stupid grin.

 

“Your girlfriend?”

 

Mesut was suddenly reminded again that he wasn’t alone and he turned to the smiling French man, “Nah.” he smiled wider, felt a little bashful that Karim had to notice.

 

Karim tilted his head slightly and asked, “Your boyfriend then?”

 

The younger man contemplated his next word carefully and bit his lip, shyly eyeing Karim, “Not quite.”

 

Karim’s eyes looked confused, but he did not ask any further and Mesut appreciated that. “Are you going to leave then?”

 

“I’m not sure…” Mesut’s phone buzzed again and he read Sergio’s reply.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I’ll pick you up in one hour, just tell me if you’re going somewhere else.  
Don’t go with strangers, okay?_

 

Mesut frowned a little and typed his reply a little hastily.

 

_To: Sergio_

_Ok and I’m not a child, thanks_

 

He put his phone back into his pocket and sighed; he seriously despised it when Sergio ‘baby-talks’ him. “I still have some time, an hour or so.” He shrugged, “Maybe I’ll just hang around in the meantime.”

 

“Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea or two?” Karim asked and Mesut turned his head to him, “I know this café that makes terrific red velvet cupcakes.” The older man wriggled his eyebrows in a funny manner and Mesut smiled, suddenly feeling a little cheeky at the moment.

 

“Why not?”

 

*

 

Karim really wasn’t lying, the red velvet tasted heavenly and even the tea was not lousy. He admitted that he doubted his decision at first, he knew he was just a little annoyed when he read that certain text message and took the decision hot-headedly, but surprisingly it was not disappointing at all. He never felt comfortable around new people and he especially avoided strangers, but Karim was unlike anyone he had ever met. He talked to him like a friend, easy with the smiles, and even funny at the right moments. He spoke with no hassle about himself, his school, his family, but he did not dominate the conversation; he asked Mesut lots of things as well.

 

It was weird how easy it was for him to tell the French about things—he then realized that he only mentioned about his friends to Sergio once or twice, and Karim could actually relate to his stories very well. He also learnt that Karim’s last name was Benzema, his family lived in Lyon, he was here because he loved Spanish culture, and would be 21 in a few months. Karim always spoke animatedly and he easily made jokes that made Mesut laugh; he was so carefree and a naturally pleasant man, it seemed. Mesut actually had a good time talking with him, but suddenly his phone buzzed and he checked on it.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I’m on my way now, where are you?_

 

Mesut typed his reply a little too excitedly while Karim was sipping his own caramel frapuccino (it appeared that he loves lots and lots of whipped cream in his drink) while eyeing Mesut from the corner of his eyes. The German was done texting and he put his phone back on the table, looking up at Karim and found him staring. Unlike the first time though, Karim didn’t shy away and stopped drinking.

 

“Your not-quite-of-a-boyfriend again?” the French asked lazily.

 

“Yeah.” Mesut chuckled at the funny face he made.

 

Karim chewed on his straw momentarily and looked at Mesut, “Is he demanding?”

 

“Nope,” Mesut sipped on his tea, contemplating whether it was okay to tell Karim or not, “Why do you ask?”

 

The other man shrugged, “Curious. I’m a demanding kind of a boyfriend myself.” He chuckled, “I’ve had boyfriends before and the only thing I’ve never done is to let them off alone.”

 

Mesut did not expect that and blushed slightly, “Uh…what?”

 

“I’m a little bit too possessive sometimes.” He chuckled lightly, “I just don’t want other people to snatch them away, you know. They’re all attractive.” He grinned playfully.

 

It made Mesut feel a little awkward in all of sudden and his cheeks turned even darker. He did feel possessiveness towards Sergio and it was proved the other day, he actually admitted it. He knew how attractive Sergio was and he was well aware that he did not other people to actually feel the same way about him; somehow, it sounded scarier now he thought about it. On the other hand, he didn’t know what the older man was up to when he was off somewhere without any trace and it made him feel so small in all of sudden. He chewed his lower lip and pondered; was it only him who thought about Sergio all the time when he was not around?

 

“He’s busy with work.” Mesut mumbled what didn’t sound to be a defense like he meant to be and Karim caught up on that.

 

“He’s working?” Karim looked slightly surprised but then he chuckled, “An older boyfriend, eh?” Karim grinned as Mesut nervously chuckled, “What kind of person are you, Mesut?” there was a foreign glint in those dark eyes as he spoke, but Mesut might have just imagined it.

 

“I’m just your average highschooler.” He shrugged nonchalantly and picked on the remains of his cupcake.

 

“Can I have your number?” the French asked gently, earning a puzzled face from his company. “If you’re left alone again, I can show you around.” He winked jokingly with that cute smile of his and Mesut nodded.

 

“Sure,” Karim handed him his own phone and he typed it down, “Just…I don’t want to bother your or anything.” He gave it back to the older man.

 

“Relax. I have lot of time,” Karim took his phone back and saved the number. “I’m glad that I found you again, to be honest. I had a great time talking with you.” He sincerely said.

 

“Same here.” Mesut grinned, “Now I know where to have good cakes nearby.” His phone buzzed again and after he read the text message, he glanced outside and found the familiar Audi just across the road. “I have to go, Karim.” He turned to his companion, “Thanks for everything, don’t hesitate to contact me if you feel like it, okay? I have all the time in the world.” He slowly got up from his seat.

 

“I will.” Karim winked, “Take care, Mesut. See you around.”

 

“See you.”

 

*

 

Sergio watched as Mesut walked out of the front door of the café, looking as beautiful as ever with his hair tousled around. He smiled to himself, leaning onto the steering wheel as Mesut carefully crossed the road and reached the front seat door, opened it and climbed in. He closed the door and turned to Sergio who had been watching him, his cheeks flushed bright as he smiled.

 

“Hello, Sergio.” He reached for the older man’s hand on the center console.

 

The matador entwined his fingers with Mesut’s, brought his hand up, and kissed it, “Hi, _cariño_. I’ve missed you.”

 

“Me too.” Mesut eyed Sergio’s lips brushing against his fingers, biting his own gently. He had missed this man so much and he had hoped—wished that they could do more. More than just innocent touches, today should be it for he had been left anxious all day without any message. Something needed to be done. “Where are we going?

 

For once, Sergio looked a little tense, but his smile was as sincere as ever. “My place?” he whispered against Mesut’s tinier fingers, “I’m so tired, but I want to be with you, so…do you mind?”

 

Mesut’s heart raced and that familiar warmth made of thrill and expectation returned in the pit of his stomach. Would it happen? Would he and Sergio…?

 

“Of course I don’t mind.”

 

*

 

It shouldn’t be this surprising to know that Sergio lived in some high-end, elite district of the town, but to see that the huge condo he owned was actually just as spotless as Sami’s house under Lena’s care was almost a shock. The fact that Sergio lived alone only made it sound even more preposterous, Mesut couldn’t even think of how he managed to do that. The decoration was a little less than how he expected it to be; it was dominated with monochrome and pastel colors. There was a huge comfortable looking couch in the living room area, kitchen on the other direction, two guest rooms, a small game room, and a staircase to the mezzanine level (where, he believed, Sergio sleeps). From the living room, Mesut could see the whole Madrid from a huge window; he was in awe.

 

“Neat.” He mumbled as he take his jacket off and placed it on the couch, he was eyeing the decorations on the walls and every surfaces in the room that he was sure did not come out from Sergio’s initiative (the Baroque painting on the wall, the vases on the racks, photos of his family; Mrs. Ramos must’ve visited frequently).

 

“You should see it at night.” Sergio stated with a knowing look on his face and Mesut rolled his eyes. He walked towards the window and touched the thick glass, looking far beyond and downwards, gulping at the height.

 

“I would like to see this at night.” He murmured, more to himself actually, but Sergio didn’t miss that and wrapped an arm around his companion’s shallow waist gently, pressing body against Mesut’s backside. He heard him heaving a small sigh and he knew Mesut couldn’t concentrate on the magnificent sight before him anymore. He shuddered to feel Sergio’s warm breath against his neck, the strong scent of his cologne, his _presence_. He ran his hand to the older man’s hand on his waist, “But I can’t. Not now.”

 

“I’m aware of that.” Sergio mumbled with a tinge of annoyance in his voice that was not meant for Mesut. The younger man gingerly drew a circle on Sergio’s hand with his thumb and smiled discreetly. “You’re hungry?” the matador pulled back and for a millisecond, Mesut felt even more annoyed when that familiar warmth disappeared. He turned around and Sergio was walking towards the kitchen, “Would you like anything? Some drinks, maybe?”

 

“Water would be okay.” As he watched Sergio disappeared into the kitchen, he suddenly realized that it was their first time to be together, _alone_ in Sergio’s comfort zone. In the place that Sergio owned, a very private place that Mesut had never thought would be seeing. It wasn’t his bedroom, okay, but it was Sergio’s own place. Somehow, the realization crept into him later than it normally should and it made his heart flutter.

 

“You sure you don’t want to take a bite?” he heard Sergio asked from the kitchen.

 

“No, I’m fine.” He moved to sit on the couch; it was so fluffy and he liked it. “I just ate some cupcakes.”

 

“Really?” Sergio took a moment of pause before he added, “Alone?”

 

Mesut blinked and he remembered about Karim, “No, actually.” He replied, “I…kinda’ met someone.”

 

A few seconds later, Sergio was back with an apple, a can of cold beer, and a glass of water. He gave the glass to Mesut, sat down next to him, relaxing, and turned a look at him. “You met someone?” he watched as Mesut sipped his water, put it down on the coffee table, and he stretched his arm to reach him.

 

The younger man shifted a little, pulling his feet onto the couch and leaned onto the older man. He was so warm and comfortable to hug; he had missed this so much. “Yeah. A guy at a bookstore.” He nonchalantly replied and involuntarily purred when Sergio’s fingers delved into his hair.

 

“A guy?” Sergio sipped his beer and put the can away on the small table next to the couch along with the apple.

 

“His name is Karim. He’s a student and we chatted over a book…no big deal.” Mesut murmured lazily. Sergio pulled his legs onto the couch and Mesut moved his leg so their legs tangled. The German was literally all over him, his chin resting on the matador’s chest as he spoke, his arms crossed underneath it. “We went to this fantastic café and talked for some time.”

 

“He asked you out?”

 

Mesut made a face, “It’s not ‘asking me out’, mister. He kept me company until you arrived. He’s nice.”

 

Sergio chuckled, “I hope he is.” He didn’t sound like it though, so Mesut lifted up his chin and looked into the older man’s face, but the older man was grinning widely and massaged his scalp with his oh-so-talented fingers. Mesut sighed and relaxed against him, he felt so happy just to be here with Sergio.

 

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled against the soft garment of Sergio’s shirt.

 

Sergio chuckled, creating a pleasant hum in his chest as he did so, “What time should I get you home?” his other hand circled around the boy’s waist, pulling him closer.

 

Mesut moved closer, changing to a more comfortable position with left leg tangling with Sergio’s right, his right resting in-between the older man’s legs. He could feel the muscles flexing underneath the fabric of his clothes, underneath his touch. Curiously Mesut ran his hand against Sergio’s stomach, gently he rubbed the fabric covered toned tummy; he had seen it before. He could almost remember perfectly the shape, the muscles, the packs, his bellybutton, his eagle tattoo—he stopped his track as Sergio took a sharp breath and he looked up at the older man’s face. Did he just cause that?

 

“Dinnertime,” Mesut whispered, “As usual.”

 

“We still have time then.” Sergio breathed a little heavier and placed his other hand on Mesut’s hips.

 

The German nodded and brought his hands up, touching Sergio’s shoulders, sliding up to his neck in curious manner. Sergio heaved a sigh, watching the younger man’s face through his half-lidded eyes. He simply couldn’t believe it was happening, Mesut in his arms and looking at him that way. He looked so beautiful like that, unmasked, clean, dripping with innocent curiosity. It was almost like a challenge for Sergio; he ran one of his hands along the boy’s shoulder blade gently, his other hand was going restless on the younger man’s hips, fingers tracing his side slowly. The urge to touch him was too strong, he was right there with him and they actually had time for this.

 

“What were you up to all day?” Mesut asked gently as he started to nuzzle the matador’s chin, closing his eyes in a way that enabled Sergio to look away. His warm breath was now against Sergio’s neck.

 

“A photoshoot,” the older man muttered his reply, “For a magazine.”

 

Mesut nodded and looked at him. Honestly, he did not know what made him feel bold today, he just wanted to see more reactions from Sergio and he realized that he was being as bold as ever touching him like that. It did things to him, the way Sergio reacts, the way he parted his lips slightly to breath and the way his muscles rippled under his touch. He flushed as he imagined the body he saw back in Sevilla; Sergio’s topless body, wet with perspiration and basked under the sunlight. He almost moaned at the image, but he managed to hold it back. He moved even closer and brushed his nose against Sergio’s cheek, almost teasingly brushing his lips against the stubbles. Sergio tensed a little and Mesut nervously laughed.

 

“It’s ticklish.” He mumbled.

 

“You missed the spot.” The older man murmured.

 

The younger man blinked and looked at him. They were only a centimeter apart, their noses brushing, but none of them made a move. Sergio smiled thinly and touched the younger man’s face with one hand, dragging his fingers to Mesut’s Adam’s apple, earning a small gasp as he reached the boy’s jutting collarbone. He then brought his fingers to the space behind Mesut’s earlobe, making him shudder as he gently caressed the lobe and toyed with his piercing. The younger man squirmed, but Sergio’s other hand kept him still.

 

“You’re so cute.” Sergio muttered, “I might commit a crime if you keep going like that.”

 

Mesut bit his lower lip and leaned closer, “What kind of crime…?” his voice was soft, gentle, dripping like honey from that adorable little mouth of his.

 

Sergio only leaned forward a little, brushing his lips against his softly and pulled back. “That kind of crime.”

 

Surprised, Mesut’s eyes turned wide. He just couldn’t believe it happened, Sergio’s lips against his…it was not quite a kiss. No, he couldn’t even trace it back, it was too brief. Too soft. Blushing, Mesut leaned closer, “Again.”

 

And Sergio did, pressing his lips against Mesut’s, firmer this time, and he pulled back again. Mesut could feel his cheeks burnt, his heartbeat rapid, but he couldn’t stop himself. “A-again.”

 

Sergio’s fingers delved into his hair and pulled him closer, this time he licked Mesut’s lips and Mesut parted his lips in surprise. When their lips met, Mesut’s head went dizzy as he felt the older man’s tongue against his, caressing his teeth and the walls of his mouth. It was so humid and hot, he had never have this kind of kiss before; he had kissed girls before, but none of them kisses felt like Sergio. Bold, sure, exhilarating; it caught his breath and made his response went slower. His chin was brushing against Sergio’s stubbles but it was no longer ticklish, it felt like something else—something he was foreign of.

 

Sergio pulled away slowly and watched how the younger man gasped for breath, looking at his parted lips, wet with spit and swollen red. It was a sight Sergio had never thought would ever see; he looked so gorgeous with his half-lidded eyes, red cheeks, and beautiful lips actually looked debauched.  He was shivering, half from shock and half from that newfound pleasure he just experienced (Sergio could guarantee that). He touched his own lips and shyly looked at Sergio’s. It felt surreal that he just had that mouth on his, that soft, velvety tongue brushing him inside. Mesut suddenly whimpered and buried his face into Sergio’s chest. He just realized he wanted it more than before now, he wanted Sergio—all of him, even more than before.

 

The older man smiled at Mesut’s reaction, caressing his hair gently and still tried to keep him on his spot. He couldn’t let the younger man know his certain problem _down there_ , he did not want to freak him out or worsen his own condition. He couldn’t believe Mesut had such an effect on him, it was considerably a short kiss, but Mesut’s taste— _god_ —he tasted wonderful and once his flavor—a little bit of chocolate and Earl Grey tea— invaded his taste buds, he just lost it for a second and sought for more until he realized that he almost went overboard. It was too dangerous. Mesut was too dangerous. Now he was no sure he could survive a day without tasting him.

 

Panting, Mesut tried to move, but Sergio held him in place. “Don’t move.” Sergio almost growled and Mesut turned a look at him, “Just…don’t.”

 

“B-but…” Mesut panicked a little. He actually felt himself swelling in his jeans, it was too embarrassing to let Sergio know that he was turned on by merely a kiss. Again, he put all the blame on his raging hormones. He should’ve been able to avoid it, but Sergio’s taste was—it was indescribable. It was just sweet and more mouth-watering than it should be. It made him dizzy, it was even hotter than any porn flick he had ever seen—he actually felt like he was in one. Everything felt too intense all at once and he couldn’t help it. With the way Sergio was keeping him still, he was sure that the older man could feel it pressed onto his hips and, well, there was no fixing it.

 

“It’s okay.” Sergio chuckled as he watched the younger man’s facial expression, he also looked a little embarrassed, “Me too.”

 

Mesut looked at him in disbelief and they both laughed. It really was not a good idea to actually press against one another with their current state, but Sergio didn’t want to let go, so they have to accommodate themselves into a more comfortable position and stay still until it went away. Sergio’s hands were firm on Mesut while the younger man’s head rested comfortably on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was calming down and so did Mesut. They stayed like that for a few moments until Mesut carefully pulled away and got up from the seat to get his water. Sergio watched him drinking and he turned to him.

 

“I guess I need to practice a lot, huh?” he shyly asked the matador and put the glass back onto the table.

 

“You’re okay.” Sergio shrugged, “But I’m so into the idea of helping with your practice.”


	11. Harmless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be harmless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being uncreative is uncreative. Look, an uncreative chapter title! *bangs head*   
> To write with your brain crashed like a computer with blue screen of death is futile. I don't think I can carry on proofreading this chapter, so here it goes folks.  
> Should I get a beta? Would anyone volunteer? (y/n)
> 
> You can just skip this and don't have to bear with my pointless rants because from this point on, I'd be bitching the hell out of my head.
> 
> -rant
> 
> I'm sure we are all the ~~victims~~ objects of the endless trolling by dearest Mesut and Serhio via Twitter. Honestly, when I thought Serzil was already at their limit, they definitely surprised me by Mesut's post of that ~~stolen~~ edit on FB and Serhio's effin tweet. I love them, I really do, I _ship_ them. I even write fics about them. The funny thing is, it's getting uncomfortable to know that they _do_ lurk on Tumblr. Like SERIOUSLY.
> 
> A pan of freshly baked apple pie is a pleasant thing. Imagine if you have to finish pan _s_ of apple pie in a row.
> 
> I don't do logic well with the current state of my brain, but I did my best. All I want to do is to lay down and think of nothing. Serzil is the best ship I've ever been on so far. I guess now it wouldn't be too shocking when they announce their wedding; we're already used to Serzil surprises, no?
> 
> -end of rant

Mesut felt like boy who ate too many sweets being at home under Sami’s scrutinizing gaze as they had dinner. Lately he had been spending his time outside and only back right before dinner with a pleasant mood and maybe Sami found something fishy about it. He kept on asking what did he do all day and he only gave him some general answers, but he did not seem to buy it. On the other hand, Lena only smiled knowingly and gave him more food. She knew he’d need that. Mesut started to suspect that Sergio and Lena contacted each other, but there was absolutely no way. Right?

 

Once Sami waited for him at the porch on purpose and practically interrogated him as he passed the front gate. Mesut was surprised and he sub-consciously wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in case there would ever be any evidence from his _practice_ with Sergio. He was glad that Sergio stopped a few blocks away under his request; it was just…Sergio’s kisses were too intoxicating and he would have problems if Sami sees him flushed with swollen lips in the cool evening of Madrid. A few minutes walk would cool him off after another short session of that and he was glad that Sami didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Where have you been?” Sami sounded a little annoyed and Mesut frowned.

 

“Around. To some bookstores.” He replied nervously.

 

“This late?”

 

“I was…with a friend.” Mesut bit his tongue. That was the worst thing he had ever made up. God.

 

“Friend?” Sami now stepped down the small ladder from the porch, the garden lamp created a creepy shadow on his face. “Since when did you have friend around here?”

 

 _Think, Mesut. Think. Think._ “When I was at a bookstore a few days ago, I met a guy.” He blurted out. So far so good, and he remembered he did. Yeah. With that…French guy—who was it again? Karim. Karim Benzema. “His name is Karim, we hanged out.” There, he was not lying. He knew Karim asked for his number, but it didn’t matter; the guy hadn’t contacted, but he didn’t exactly lie about meeting a guy.

 

Sami gave him a look, “Karim?”

 

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m hungry, _dad_.” Mesut grumbled as he walked past him to the front door. He was safe for now, but he sure had to do something about it later.

 

He quickly went upstairs to freshen up and changed his clothes. He smiled a little as he put an old tee on, almost couldn’t believe that he actually did everything; sneaking behind his beloved cousin’s back to make out with his best friend. He felt so bad for doing that, but somehow he knew it was the right thing to do. No, deceiving his cousin really was a bad idea, but to make his way to Sergio felt like the best decision he had ever took. He could still feel the older man’s soft lips on his from the last kiss they shared in the car only a few blocks away. He remembered clutching on Sergio’s red jacket, pulling him closer clumsily while avoiding the middle console when all he wanted to do was to climb onto Sergio’s lap and kiss him all over. He was warm and today he tasted like the cappuccino they had on the way back. He still had some stuffs to do tonight, he said, a friend’s birthday party or something. Mesut grinned as he changed into a pair of shorts.

 

After he was sure he was no longer smiling stupidly, he went downstairs while checking his phone. There was a text message from Sergio which he quickly read.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I’m at the party already.  
Boring as hell._

 

Mesut giggled and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, typing his reply.

 

_To: Sergio_

_Enjoy :p  
Will I see you tomorrow?_

 

He walked into the dining room, joining Sami and sat on one stool. His phone buzzed again and he opened the message he just received, ignoring Sami’s curious glance.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I’m not sure, Rene said something about some interviews.  
*frowny face*_

 

Mesut couldn’t help but to giggle a little; even Lena turned a look at him at that. He tried to gain his composure and texted back.

 

_To: Sergio_

_It’s okay. Just contact me whenever you have time, ok?  
Have fun!_

 

He placed the phone on the table and realized that his cousins were staring at him. Innocently he looked at them, “What?”

 

“You sure look happy, _Schatz_.” Lena gave him a knowing smile and sat down next to Sami.

 

Mesut laughed nervously, “Isn’t it good?”

 

“It is, actually, unless it’s caused by texts from Thomas.” Sami sighed, but then he turned him a look, “Or is it that Karim guy you just told me about?” he raised his eyebrows.

 

The younger man gaped like a fish and Lena gave him another look, a scandalous one. “ _Karim_?” she narrowed her pretty eyes, Mesut didn’t know why but he couldn’t look at her, “Who is this _Karim_ you’re talking about, dear?” she asked Sami though she kept her eyes on Mesut with a stiff smile.

 

“I don’t know, _liebling_ , but I believe he’s just some guy Mesut met a few days ago.” He replied with a teasing tone, grinning as he took some bread, “A _friend_.”

 

“Oh. _Karim_ is a new _friend_ , huh?”

 

“Stop it already.” Mesut flushed, he didn’t like how they emphasized those two words as if it should mean anything for Mesut, while it didn’t. Lazily he reached out for his spoon and dipped it in his soup.

 

“I’m afraid Mesut has found his holiday fling.” Sami said not too discreetly at Lena as he dipped his bread in his soup, “We have to get more food tomorrow.”

 

“He’s only a guy I met, for god’s sake, Sami!” Mesut groaned. Karim wasn’t less fictive than Miroslav for him at this moment, he didn’t even feel anything for the guy and he just met him once though it was his fault for using him to cover up.

 

Sami laughed, “It’s okay Mes, you’re here to have fun anyway. Just make sure he’s a good guy and don’t go too far.”

 

“Sami, you’re disgusting!” Mesut made a face.

 

Lena laughed, “Wrap it up, boys. Eat your meals.” She grabbed her spoon while eyeing Mesut and the boy knew he owed her an explanation.

 

*

 

“For the 100th time, Len, I’m going out with Sergio. I have nothing to do with that French guy.” Mesut said, half-whispering to his cousin.

 

“But you didn’t say anything about, wow, a French guy.” Lena almost rolled her eyes, “How did you meet him at the first place? Is he a nice guy? You _do_ know how many weirdos we have here in Madrid, right?”

 

“I know.” Mesut tried again patiently, “As I told you, we met at a bookstore and we went for some tea, we chatted, he seemed to be a normal guy, and no, I don’t think I’m going to see him anytime in the future, so you can chill, Lena, please.” He sat down on the stool near the kitchen counter, “I’m merely using him to stop Sami from breathing down my neck.”

 

Lena looked at him as if contemplating whether she could trust him or not, but then she shrugged. “How exactly did you start talking, then? I can’t imagine you to walk up to him and introduce yourself to him.”

 

“I didn’t, he did.”

 

“I think Madrid boys have a thing for Gelsenkirchen boys.” Lena jokingly said and ruffled her cousin’s unruly hair and walked over to get her leftover cake into the fridge.

 

Mesut could only watch her in defeat and suddenly his phone buzzed again on the counter. He quickly reached for it, hoping that it was a message from Sergio, but it was from an unrecognized number. He frowned a little.

 

_From: +91008567**_

_Hi Mesut, this is Karim, remember me?_  
I’m wondering if you’ll be alone with nothing to do again tomorrow. :p  
-KB

 

He blinked a few times and fell silent for a few seconds more. He read the message again to make sure and he realized he didn’t read it wrong. This seriously was an ironically ridiculous coincidence, he didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but it happened. He contemplated for a while before he typed his reply slowly.

 

_To: +91008567**_

_Hi, how are you? I thought it’s you who forgot, lol.  
I guess so, why?_

 

He clicked ‘send’ and sat stiffly. Sami’s words started to taunt him in his head, he despised the fact that he was easily affected by such a thing. He was so sure that it was only Karim’s friendly attempt—he was simply a nice guy, he had his firsthand experience on that department. Lena returned to the counter to get the cups they just used and noticed the change of his expression.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Uh…” he tried to say something, but his phone went off again. He checked it and felt a little nervous.

 

_From: +91008567**_

_Sry I was busy, I should’ve texted earlier.  
Wanna’ hang out tomorrow?_

 

He felt uncomfortable. It was a possibility, yes, but Sami was just playing with him anyway. To go out with a man didn’t make him gay, therefore it didn’t make him ooze the pheromone to attract men like Thomas once joked about. It didn’t make him want to ‘get it on’ with every single man he met, he only wanted Sergio and he was well aware of the fact, it was only the ‘what if’s in his head that were giving him a lump in his throat. He knew very well that he wanted _only_ Sergio. It was just an innocent friendly invitation to hang out after all; he honestly could see nothing bad about it. He loved hanging around Sergio, maybe even more than anything at the moment, but Sergio wouldn’t be around and to stay home all day would be boring. He glanced at Lena who had her back on him and he quickly typed his reply.

 

_To: +91008567**_

_Sure, why not._

 

It would be harmless.

 

*

 

Mesut sat on a bus stop across the café Karim brought him to a few days ago, his earphones plugged in his ears. Karim texted him last night to meet up there by 10 AM, but he arrived earlier than the appointed time (it really was hard to remove that ‘special trait’ Sergio praised him for). He glanced at his iPod, he still had five more minutes, but when he looked across the street, he believed he almost beamed as he saw a familiar-looking man dressed in a grey tanktop and army green cargo pants waving at him. He smiled and waved back, Karim was not bad at being on time at all.

 

As he crossed the street, Mesut realized that it was not only Karim’s punctuality that exceeded his expectation, but also his rather complimenting way of dressing. He actually dressed excessively good to just ‘hang out’, it made Mesut feel like to shrink in his Al Pacino tee and old denim to hide in his old Converse sneakers. He wished he followed up the current fashion for boys his age like Mario always did so well until now. When Karim paused in front of him, he beamed at him, showing his adorably crooked front teeth.

 

“Hi, how are you? Been waiting long?” he asked cheerfully.

 

“I’m doing well and no, I’ve only been here for ten minutes.” Mesut grinned at him; he swore that this man’s bubbly character was infectious (and his smiles too). He moved aside to give more space for Karim to sit down and the French man did, relaxing his shoulders a bit. “I was surprised that you suddenly texted me.”

 

“Oh,” Karim turned his eyes to his, “Was it a bad time?”

 

“Nah,” the younger one shook his head and smiled at the look on his companion’s face, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

 

“I was busy with my assignments for the past few days, that Catalan history book, remember?” he sniggered, “Then I remembered this lonely little guy and asked him to hang out.” He earned a playful jab on his arm for that.

 

“You make me sounds sad.” Mesut chuckled, “So what do you have in mind for today?”

 

Karim made a funny face as if he was thinking hard, pulling his lower lip out. “I don’t know. What do _you_ want to do?”

 

Mesut raised his eyebrows, thinking momentarily and shrugged, “I don’t know. Do you like football?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Karim grinned.

 

“This might be boring for you, but I’ve always wanted to visit Santiago Bernabeu but I don’t know how to go there.”

 

“Bernabeu it is!” Karim excitedly got up, “I haven’t been there for ages. Who knows we can see some players?” he chuckled and extended his arm to Mesut. The younger man stared at it momentarily before he grabbed his hand and the French gave him a pull to stand up, “Come on, it’s still early. We can still catch up some players for sure!”

 

“Sure.” Mesut felt his cheeks heated with excitement.

 

*

 

As expected from what he had seen from the photos on the internet, the stadium was grand and elegant in any sense of word. It was not only beautiful, but it also fired him up as a football enthusiast himself. He had seen and heard the long career of the host team of this stadium all his life and he couldn’t believe that he was right in the middle of the trophy hall to see it himself. His eyes gleamed at the shiny trophies, recognizing them all from different league, events, and years. Next to him, Karim was looking at some older trophies, his eyes dancing from one cup to another.

 

“Cool, huh?” he mumbled.

 

“Yep.” Mesut tore his gaze away and turned around to check the information pad and read it briefly. “It’d be really cool to be able to see a player, really.”

 

Karim huffed, “I’ve been coming here for the last 2 years and I couldn’t see anyone.” He pouted, “I sometimes wish I have more time and wait for them here to get their autographs or something.” He stuck out his tongue.

 

“Maybe we can wait for them today?” Mesut suggested, “They must be training, right? Why don’t we just find their parking lot and wait for it?”

 

“Wow, you have some of the creepiest and the coolest ideas.” Karim chuckled, “I’m in.”

 

*

 

“So, you do this quite often?”

 

Mesut turned his eyes to Karim from the back entrance of the stadium, “Do what?”

 

“Stalking celebrities.” The slightly taller man sipped on his bottle of water.

 

“Well, I often did this with my cousin when we were younger.” He sheepishly smiled, “Our favorite rappers, German footballers, I think we got them all.”

 

“And that is how you acquired this skill to guess where would they come through?” he eyed his younger companion interestedly as Mesut kept his eyes on the gate.

 

“Well, it’s only logic.” Mesut glanced at him, “The first gate is for tourists, the second gate is closed due to maintenance, the third is guarded fully and it attracted the fans because it does seem like it’d be used by the players. We still have this gate, which is rarely used with mostly empty parking lot, so…” he shrugged.

 

“You’re creepy.” Karim laughed, “With that face of yours, you’d be able to creep out no one though.”

 

Mesut frowned and turned at Karim, “What’s wrong with my face? I can be scary when I want to.” He pursed his lips as Karim sniggered, “Seriously, I used to scare my neighbors off every Halloween.”

 

“Do I have to wait for Halloween then?” Karim eyed him and received a punch on his side, wincing a little, “Okay, that hurts.”

 

“Shush now, look.” Mesut pointed at a car approaching the gate, a shiny, sleek black Porsche. They tried to take a look and gasped as they realized who the driver was.

 

“Holy shit, holy shit. Guti, it’s Guti!” Karim babbled excitedly.

 

Mesut was speechless and they stood there until the car passed through the security and went away until they couldn’t see it again. Mesut was gaping until Karim shook him, “Why were we only standing here? Why didn’t we stop him and ask for autograph??”

 

It toon a few seconds until Mesut found his voice and he blushed, “There’s a reason why I used to do this kind of thing with my cousin.” He bit his lower lip, “I tend to get too nervous, man, sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. But, shit, that was Guti.” Karim took a deep breath, “Okay, if there’s another player arriving, we’ll try to stop him, ask for some photos and autograph.”

 

“Do we have pen?”

 

“Just photos then.”

 

“Okay.” Mesut leaned onto the brick wall and sighed. “Okay.”

 

It took only a few more minutes until they saw another car approaching from afar. This time Karim bolted up and grabbed Mesut’s shoulder to get him closer to the road, “Mes, we cannot miss this one, we totally cannot.”

 

“Chill, the car’s still far…”

 

“But I know who that is,” Karim explained, “It’s Raul Gonzalez’s car. I know his car, god, I even know his hobbies better than I know my sisters’!” he excitedly dragged Mesut to the road.

 

“And you call me creepy?” Mesut barked in laughter and followed him.

 

Karim waved at the car excitedly and unexpectedly, the car halted and the French turned a look at Mesut, mouthing ‘he stopped’ with a very childlike expression. Mesut took out his phone with a grin and followed him to the driver seat side of the door, waiting for Raul to roll down his window. When he finally did, Karim tried so hard to maintain his cool composure as Raul smiled up at them both from behind his shades, looking as humble as ever. Mesut had seen him before, his skills were marvelous and he couldn’t believe that he was standing right before the man who usually made him gape on TV.

 

“ _Hola_ , Raul,” Karim chatted him up, shaking his hand, “y _o y mi amigo aquí... Somos grandes_ fans _tuya... siempre has sido mi ídolo_.”

 

Mesut didn’t understand what Karim said and he didn’t really care as he stared at Raul, amazed at how soft he spoke and how friendly he was. He only moved when Karim pulled him nearer and asked him to take a photo of them and he did. When he finished with Karim’s photo, the man quickly snatched his phone and pulled him to stand next to Raul’s door. He blinked confusedly.

 

“Come on, Mes, I’m taking your photo!” Karim hurried him.

 

Mesut then smiled shyly at the legend before him and leaned closer. Karim took their photo and moved closer, taking the photo of three of them by awkwardly angling the phone up in the air. They then thanked Raul for his time and Karim shook his hand excitedly. Mesut did the same, still somewhat in trance that one of his idols was actually shaking his hand and after that, Raul drove off. Mesut still looked confused and amazed while Karim laughed at his face.

 

“You should look at your face, man!” Karim ruffled his hair and Mesut chuckled nervously.

 

“I just…wow.” He muttered, “He’s…wow, he’s amazing.”

 

“Of course!” Karim put his arms around Mesut, “Wow, this is amazing—I should’ve thought about that!” he pulled away and gripped on Mesut’s shoulders, “I’m so happy that I could kiss you right now, just so you know.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare.” Mesut stuck out his tongue.

 

“Try me.” Karim smirked evilly, but before Mesut could react, he wrapped an arm around his neck and ruffled his hair again. “Come on! Let’s grab something to eat!”

 

*

 

They ended up eating some _tapas_ in a café near Karim’s collage. It wasn’t the best quality, very much unlike Lena’s homemade ones or the ones he had at restaurants Sergio brought him to, but there was something satisfying about it. The combination of the cheap food, the atmosphere of the half-empty café, the warm sunlight, and Karim’s beaming smile was fantastic. He couldn’t even help his own grin as Karim animatedly spoke about how excited he was, how he felt like to hurl when Raul rolled down his window, but he didn’t want to hurl on the footballer. When their desserts arrived (a slice of plain-looking cheesecake and banana split for Karim), the older man calmed down.

 

“I will never be able to get over it.” The French man sighed and spooned some ice cream, “I’m changing my profile picture tonight.”

 

“I’ll tag you later then, just text me your e-mail.” Mesut smiled as he chewed on the cake; it wasn’t that bad actually, it was pretty good.

 

“We should hang out again.” Karim poked on the sliced banana, “When will you have time again?”

 

Mesut shrugged, “I’m not sure.” It actually reminded him that he hadn’t checked on his phone all day except for taking pictures, “I’ll text you when I can?”

 

“Sure.” He grinned cheekily and got up, “I’m gonna’ ask for some chocolate sauce, do you need anything else?”

 

“Nah.” He spooned his cake more and smiled at his friend’s back as he left. He took his time getting his phone to check their pictures on his phone. They looked pretty good; he especially liked the one with the three of them, all smiles, even Raul. He then checked for missed calls and texts, squinting at the number of missed calls coming from Lena and Sergio, then he checked the texts. There were three texts from Sergio and one from Lena.

 

_From: Lena_

_Mes, why aren’t you answering my call? Sergio is texting me. You’re okay, aren’t you?_

 

He quickly replied to Lena and checked texts from Sergio. He smiled a little while reading the texts, feeling a little proud that he made the man lose his wits. It was childish, of course, but he couldn’t help it. He had been waiting for it.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Good morning,_ tio _. I have the most terrible hangover but Rene dragged me for another interview today. *frowny face*  
I wish I can have you here._

_From: Sergio_

_Babe, are you out?_

_From Sergio:_

_Why aren’t you answering my calls? You OK?_

It did make him feel a little guilty that he made the Spaniard worried though. He quickly typed his reply as he sipped on his iced tea.

 

_To: Sergio_

_I’m sorry, Sese, I’m out and I just read your texts. I’m okay, don’t worry. How’s the interview?  
I went to Bernabeu with Karim and we met Raul Gonzalez. We took pictures. He’s so cool.  
I miss you. _ _J_

 

He attached his photo with Raul on the text and clicked ‘send’, hoping that Sergio wouldn’t be too furious though he might like it if he would. Karim then returned with a bottle of chocolate sauce and poured it all over his ice cream, eyeing his friend.

 

“Texting your boyfriend?”

 

Mesut only grinned sheepishly, “He went nuts. I honestly didn’t notice that he texted and tried to call me.”

 

Karim chuckled, “Today was fun then, I assume?”

 

“Definitely.” He put his phone down on the table, “I had no idea that my stalking skills would be of use.”

 

“Now you know.” The French man winked, “Tomorrow I have classes, but do you think we can hang out on Friday?”

 

“I’ll check.” His phone vibrated and he opened a new message for Sergio.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Who’s Karim again?_

 

Mesut frowned a little and typed his reply.

 

_To: Sergio_

_I’ve told you about Karim, the guy I met at the bookstore._

 

He looked away from his phone as he finished texting, “If I can have some time off, what’re we gonna’ do on Friday?”

 

“I don’t know.” Karim smiled, “I just want to hang out and chat with you. I told you I want to get to know you better.” He licked his spoon clean with a teasing smirk. Mesut flushed slightly, but he didn’t deny it. He did feel like he wanted to know Karim better too, he was a nice guy. It definitely wouldn’t do him any harm. His phone vibrated again and he opened the message.

 

_From: Sergio_

_I guess I forgot.  
Do you want to come over on Friday?_

 

He was supposed to be excited, but he surprised himself by frowning a little. He felt a tinge of disappointment, but then again with such a busy schedule, he couldn’t possibly do more. Carefully he typed his reply and with a sigh he looked at his companion, “I’m sorry, man. No can do on Friday.”

 

“It’s okay, Mes.” Karim waved his hand, “It must be harder for you to get some time off to be with your boyfriend, no? We can hang out some other time.” He smiled widely and Mesut smiled back.

 

“Sure.” It was only logical, he couldn’t see Sergio anytime he wants, but he could meet Karim more often because Karim had more time off. He even told him that he was interested to get to know him and so was he, it would be okay and Karim understood the situation just as much as he was.

 

Of course, he was harmless.

 


	12. Plot Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist: Mesut is not the hopeless romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's too lazy to proofread.
> 
> I'm sorry that I took longer time to finish this one. If it can somehow cheer you up, I'm working on two more Serzil fic prompts at the moment. (it can't make me less guilty though)  
> I do hope that you like this chapter, scumbag!brain steered me to a route I've never thought I'd ever take a.k.a "OMG WHAT HAVE I DONE".
> 
> Enjoy~ <3

Once the sound of Sami’s car faded, Mesut jumped out of his bed to get ready. He had been waiting for his cousin to go to work and excitedly ran downstairs in his sleeping attire (with his phone in his hand as always), skipping his steps towards the dining table to see the table…empty. He blinked a few times, he didn’t hear wrong, Sami already went to work but there would be no way Lena would let him off without watching him eating his breakfast. It was odd, but he didn’t even hear any sound coming from the kitchen. Blinking, he checked the living room and the kitchen only to find a small container on the counter with a post-it attached to the lid. He looked at it and read the messy handwriting that seemed to be Lena’s.

 

_Schatzi,_

_I’m out with Sami, Mrs. Catalina called in sick and I’m going to be at her place for some time. If you’re leaving, remember to lock the front and the back door. There’s some leftover chicken in the fridge, you just need to heat it up for 10 minutes and there are some muffins I baked last night. We’ll be back at dinnertime (or later)._

_Behave <3_

_-Lena_

 

He couldn’t help but to blush. His phone went off and he looked at the screen, a call from Sergio. He sat on the nearest seat and opened the lid of the container as he received the call.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi, Mes.” Sergio’s voice was soft and a little hoarse, he sounded like he just woke up. Mesut smiled a little, an image of the older man holding his phone sluggishly on a bed was kind of adorable. “What’s with the sudden text from Lena?”

 

“What?” Mesut stopped poking on a blueberry muffin.

 

“She said that you’ll be home alone today.” He murmured on the other line.

 

The boy blushed again at the tone the Spaniard was using, “She’s off to a friend’s house and Sami is working…” he finally took the muffin and weighed it in his palm, “She said they’d be back at dinnertime. Might be later.” He didn’t even try not to sound expectant and let a smile to spread on his lips.

 

“Hmm.” Sergio hummed, “How about a change of plan? I’ll come over after lunch.”

 

A tad bit disappointed, Mesut nibbled on his muffin a little, “But I can go there right now.” He mumbled his reply.

 

“I know, baby. Give this old man some time, yeah?” Sergio chuckled, “Gotta’ recharge first to assist you with your ‘training’.”

 

The German bit on the muffin to muffle the sound he was about to make and chewed slowly, “O-okay.”

 

“I’ll see you later okay? I’ll get you your lunch too.” Sergio paused for a while and the younger man waited for him to continue, but he didn’t say anything.

 

“Uh…see you later then?”

 

“Sure. Bye.” Sergio hanged up.

 

*

 

Sitting on his bed, Sergio stared at his phone screen for a while. He realized he had never said those particular words before, he had no idea if Mesut was looking forward to hear that, but if he was going to say it, it wouldn’t be over the phone. He almost did it though; it only felt natural. He hadn’t been like this for a long time, he hadn’t been expecting text messages or calls for even longer. When Rene told him that he could take a day off yesterday, he was more than excited and checked for Mesut’s reply on his phone. He was well aware of how not cool he behaved when he didn’t hear from the German until lunchtime.

 

He could lie through texts, but when Mesut finally replied and told him whom he spent his time with, he couldn’t control the escalating heat on his head. He almost lost it when Mesut replied him with the usual innocent manner of his. The boy would be the end of him somehow if he kept on doing that. He wasn’t that old, but he could die from high blood pressure if the German kept on telling him that he met one guy after another, more again from the photo the boy sent him, Karim looked like anything but unattractive. If it were not Mesut, he would have blown from the nerve to send him a photo of him having fun with another man.

 

He nibbled on his thumbnail, the insecurity came by him in a flash and disappeared very easily as well, but he couldn’t deny that he was, as the matter of fact, jealous. He hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but he was a possessive kind of a man. He had been like that, it wasn’t easy to let himself stray from that feeling alone by doing what Sami called ‘whoring around’ for the past few years. His fling with the lad named Nando wasn’t anything serious; at least on Nando’s behalf. It hit him quite hard that he couldn’t actually control his own feelings for the young boy, how he went berserk at the sight of Nando in another man’s arms, how horrified Nando looked when he tried to break that man’s neck.

 

It was not a trait he was proud of. It clearly was something that he revealed to be a weakness. He just could not let that happen again, he couldn’t let anyone to have that kind of control on him, it was rather horrible. He remembered spending one night in jail until Rene came and bailed him out, asking him for answers he was unable to retrieve even until now. He remembered his last encounter with Nando afterwards; the boy’s eyes on him were nowhere near sweet and gentle like they used to be, he could practically see the horror in those bright, blue eyes and the paled complexion of his skin.

 

He stopped seeing the boy after that with a vow to never get himself into that kind of situation, but then Sami introduced him to this little angel with far more delicate mind. It felt almost like a test for him. At first, he did not even want to think about a relationship. He found Mesut attractive and thought it would be fun to have him around. He didn’t need the boy to love or even to like him, that was why he sneaked his hand upon the boy’s thigh the first time he met, why he flirted with him openly, trying to give him signals which the boy poorly caught on. He wasn’t like Nando, he was different. He didn’t react straight from mere teasing touch upon his skin, he was more complicated than that.

 

If he were like other sixteen-year-olds out there, starving for intimacy with uncontrollably raging hormones, Sergio would have had him weeks ago. Maybe after their first dinner together, but he didn’t try. The more he knew Mesut, the more he wanted to keep the boy safe and always within his reach. It was a funny thing, he had always labeled himself as the jerk no one would be able to tie down, a cheesy way to build an image, really, but it made him feel safer. He _hated_ this kind of insecurity. He just had to do something, _anything_ to make sure that no one would snatch this one away from him.

 

*

 

The day was nice and warm, but Mesut chose to lie on the sofa, in front of the TV in the living room, efficiently dressed in the shirt he wore last night and a pair of capris. He was flipping through the endless number of Spanish-speaking channels absent-mindedly with a jar of cookies and a huge cup of orange juice on the floor, just within his arm’s reach. Even though his finger was working on the remote buttons, he had a dreamy look on his face. He was not thinking about the TV shows at all, he had his mind somewhere ‘more important’.

 

He was actually thinking that it was about time to take one step further in his and Sergio’s relationship. He couldn’t help it, the thought of…sharing more intimacy with the bullfighter excited him very easily. Last night, before he went to sleep, he imagined how it would feel like to have Sergio touching him— not through the clothes, but directly to his skin, dragging his callused fingertips along his side, counting the ribcage one by one slowly. How it would feel like to touch Sergio’s skin, to trace the patterns of his tattoos with his fingers, to feel the strong muscles of his stomach rippling underneath his touch, to draw the outline of the eagle tattoo that sometimes peeks from the top of his pants—how would he react? How would he breath against Mesut’s very own skin?

 

Mesut sighed and rolled on the sofa with an evident blush. He had fantasized other people before, but it was more intense to think about Sergio. He did not have any idea why but it felt more real, closer and more erotic than anything else. He started to swell in his pants but he felt way too lazy to do anything about it. He hadn’t been masturbating for a month (an accidental orgasm in the middle of nowhere in Sevilla doesn’t count), it wasn’t as if it was his longest streak. He did feel the urges and the need to do so, but he could always forget about that by exercising and stuffs, he didn’t find it a big deal even after Thomas accused him for being weird. He didn’t feel weird, he just didn’t find it as enjoyable as Thomas did.

 

Though lately, the urges came a little bit too often, especially when Sergio is around. The man just had that kind of effect on him, sometimes when it got too overwhelming, he just had to ask Sergio to move away for a couple of minutes to calm himself down. It was unfair when even though he knew the older man often nursed the same problem, he was more cool with it. He didn’t know what goes on in his head though, if he were able to read the Spaniard’s mind, maybe it wouldn’t bother him that much.

 

Sighing, he got up and checked his phone. It was still eleven, he still got some time, but then his phone went off. He didn’t even bother to check the caller ID and picked it up, “Hello.”

 

“Hi, Mesut!” a familiar bubbly voice greeted and Mesut tilted his head.

 

“Oh, hi, Karim, what’s up?” he tried not to sound exasperated, he didn’t expect it to be Karim at the first place.

 

“Nothing, I only…want to chat.” Karim gave a sheepish answer, “Are you busy? I can totally hang up if you and your boyfriend…you know.”

 

“No, it’s cool.” Mesut chuckled and leaned onto the sofa, “He’s not here yet.”

 

“Wow, that guy sure likes to make you wait.”

 

Mesut frowned a little at that, but he decided to take it good-naturedly. “He’s fetching my lunch. So, anyway, what’re you doing today?”

 

“Nothing much. I paint something, hang out with some friends…” he trailed off, “Which reminds me, me and my band are going to have a small gig on Saturday night. Can you come?”

 

“A gig?” Mesut chirped, “You’re in a band? You play? Wow, why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I never think it’s that cool, really.” Karim chuckled. “So…Saturday night?”

 

Mesut sighed a little, “I don’t know, gotta’ ask my cousin, he’s such a worrywart.”

 

“Tell him that I’ll get you home safe and sound, I promise.”

 

“Really?” he grinned widely at that, “I mean, who knows, he’d ask for your number as well.”

 

“It’s okay, let him have my number.”

 

“I’ll text you later then?” Mesut bit his lower lip expectantly. Sami would never allow him to go out at night here, but who knows?

 

“Okay, just let me know.”

 

“You haven’t told me what are you playing.” The German grinned.

 

“I’m a drummer but FYI, I can play guitar as well.” Karim replied with a small giggle.

 

“That’s cool, I didn’t have any friend who’s in a band.” he chuckled and suddenly heard the doorbell and got up from his seat towards the front door, “Do you have groupies?”

 

“Barely,” the French man replied, “We’re not that popular yet, Mes!”

 

“Really now?” Mesut laughed as he peeked through the peephole to find Sergio on the other side of the door. “Oh, I gotta’ go now, Karim. I’ll text you later, okay?”

 

“Sure thing, bye.”

 

Mesut hanged up and quickly unlocked the door and opened it with a wide smile on his face, “Hey.” He gasped once he saw the older man standing on the doorway, dressed casually in a tee and jeans with his hair loose just above his shoulders, framing his face. It reminded him of Sevilla, the only place where he had seen Sergio in his most comfortable form. He loved it when he put his branded stuffs on, but this kind of Sergio was…

 

“What are you staring at?” the taller man chuckled as he walked in.

 

“N-nothing.” Mesut shook his head a little and pushed the door close.

 

Sergio put the plastic bag he was carrying on the shoe storage next to the hanger and grabbed the younger man’s shoulder to pull him closer, and gave him a brief kiss on his lips. It startled the German a little and he automatically parted his lips in surprise, only encouraged the Sevillian even more and he found an arm wrapped around his waist and the same full, moist lips back against his, trying to kiss him deeper. Mesut’s arm flailed a little before he started moving his tongue languidly with Sergio’s, gripping on the surface of the shoe rack a little helplessly as he tried to sought more of Sergio’s taste, the faint minty taste from his toothpaste today, the rich aroma of the coffee he possibly bought on his way here, and the…

 

Mesut blinked and pulled away a little, earning a disappointed grunt from Sergio who was panting as well. It was evident that the older man didn’t want to stop yet, but Mesut squinted his eyes at him, “Did you smoke…?”

 

Chuckling, the older man pressed his forehead against the younger one’s, “Only one. Or maybe two.” He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look into Mesut’s questioning dark orbs, “I don’t smoke, baby. It’s my first after the last three years.” He muttered, “Now can we resume the training, please?”

 

“After lunch.” Mesut gave him a look.

 

The Spaniard laughed and poked the boy’s nose, “Only because you said so, Mes. Only because you said so.” He retrieved the bag back and gave it to Mesut, “Beef burritos.”

 

“Sounds good.” The boy snatched the bag and opened it, “I’ll get some plates, just wait in the living room, yeah?”

 

Sergio went into the other room and found the previous mess Mesut caused and smiled a little. He could picture the younger man watching TV while munching some cookies while watching some Spanish drama he couldn’t understand. He tried not to think about Sami and Lena too much and concentrate only to Mesut. He sat down on the sofa and reached for the remote control to switch the channel. Mesut came back with the food already on two plates and placed them on the coffee table. The German took one and unwrapped it, easily falling onto the older man’s lap who got his arms wrapped around Mesut’s waist.

 

“Won’t you be eating?”

 

“Feed me.” Sergio opened his mouth and Mesut giggled as he almost shoved the food, startling the older man a little until he took a bite and started to chew slowly.

 

“You’re so clingy, you know?” the boy took a bite as well, “I didn’t expect you to be like so, honestly.”

 

The Spaniard pulled him closer and rested his chin on Mesut’s shoulder, “Do you or do you not like it?”

 

Mesut took another bite and tilted his head a little, “It’s adorable.”

 

“Because I know you like me being adorable while you look like you didn’t even shower and you speak with your mouth full.” Sergio chuckled at Mesut’s slowed chewing and kissed the gap behind his ear, “You’re adorable like this, though.”

 

The younger man swallowed the food, “FYI, I did shower this morning.”

 

“Which explains why you smell so good.” He nuzzled the longish ends of Mesut’s hair and the soft expanse of skin on his neck gently, “Apart of smelling like a burrito.”

 

“No, I don’t!” he took the last bite, tossed the aluminum foil wrapper to the table, and tried to get away from the bullfighter.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I’m going to wash my hands real quick!” Mesut got up and dashed towards the kitchen hastily. Sergio could only laugh at that.

 

*

 

They remembered talking; at least Mesut did. They talked about things, about what kind of interview Sergio had, about the party he was invited to, about Rene, and other trivial things. Nothing of that much importance, but it made the younger man feel more at ease to know what Sergio did on those days they did not see each other. The older man spoke so animatedly when it comes to Rene with his arms around Mesut, making the German laugh. He also remembered telling the older man about his days, about Sami and Lena, about visiting Bernabeu. What he didn’t really remember was how did he manage to climb the stairs and get into his room as now Sergio was all over him, mouthing his sensitive neck. The German could actually feel Sergio’s tongue trailing his skin, making him unable to hold the embarrassing sounds he was making and his head dizzy. His sight was blurry, all he could hear and feel and smell and taste was Sergio and Sergio alone. He didn’t know what caused the sudden change, but he couldn’t find the will to remember it and melted under Sergio’s touch.

 

Mesut reached out to grab the nape of Sergio’s neck and pulled his head up to kiss him, all tongue and teeth, lapping and tangling with one another in one heated collision. It sent an electrifying jolt to the younger one’s crotch, he felt himself hardening in his own pants and he moaned into the Spaniard’s humid mouth, pulling him closer to taste him deeper, caressing his tongue in that sweet cavern. He had no idea what came into him, but suddenly he felt ready. He wanted _it_. He wouldn’t run anymore.

 

The bullfighter arched against Mesut, releasing a low groan when the German captured his lips again, rather aggressively. He felt a little guilty that he attacked the boy like this only after he mentioned that Karim-guy again. He did what his anger told him to do; wrapped Mesut around his arms and brought him upstairs. When he felt those arms around his neck though, he couldn’t care anymore and devour what Mesut has to offer. He slid his palm on the boy’s chest, feeling the faint muscle tones on him and the hardened nubs through the shirt. He ran the other one on his side, running his fingers on his ribs down to his hips and gripped him there. He almost couldn’t believe that Mesut actually was keening on his touch, reacting to it, and the idea alone was enough to turn him on and he, almost automatically, bucked against Mesut’s groin and the younger man broke the kiss with a keening hum. Sergio blinked momentarily and realized what he just did. Quickly he pulled away a little, a little panicked, while Mesut blinked at the loss of warmth and looked up at him with focused eyes, finally.

 

“I’m sorry.” The Spaniard whispered, “That was…”

 

Mesut’s breath slowly evened a little, but his breath still a little labored, “I-it’s…” he stuttered, “I…I don’t mind…really-“

 

“No, babe, you _should_ mind.” Sergio sighed and pushed himself off and sat on the edge of the cramped bed, rubbing his temples while wishing his erection to just go away.

 

The younger man laid in silence, a small frown on his forehead but Sergio had his back on him, so he slowly sat up and touched the older man’s back, “I…I don’t mind…” he muttered, “I _don’t_ want to mind.”

 

“As much as I believe what you said, I cannot, _tio_.” Sergio smiled a little.

 

“Is it my age?”

 

“ _Our_ age.”

 

“What, age suddenly matters now?” Mesut could not help his annoyance.

 

“It is not because I can wait until your birthday or something…” Sergio replied, he sounded a little embarrassed but he didn’t know what else to say. He _did_ want to wait for Mesut even though recently his heart didn’t seem to support it at the idea of losing him to someone else, but he could not do it.

 

“I thought I’m already legal here.”

 

“Are you?” Sergio glanced at him, “In Germany, I mean.”

 

The blush crept back to Mesut’s cheeks, he suddenly felt ashamed that Sergio actually thought about it _that_ far while he…

 

“It’s not that I cannot do it, Mes.” The older man shifted on his seat and turned to him, “I _want_ to do it and I _can_. I just…you…you’re young. You’re…” Sergio tried his best to look at the teenager’s curious eyes; he had never felt this nervous in front of someone, not to mention a boy. “You’re far too clean to have your…first time…to be rushed like this.”

 

The boy blushed harder, he would never expect Sergio to say such a thing. It would sound silly coming from someone else, but this is Sergio. Mesut darted his eyes everywhere in the room, he felt too nervous to look at Sergio right now, and he wasn’t sure what to feel about it. He couldn’t describe the swelling wound in heart, yet it was somewhat soothing that Sergio thought about their relationship _that_ far.

 

“Also,” Sergio reached for his hands and he looked up to his face, “It’d feel like cheating Sami this way. I’ve been thinking that we should tell him somehow.”

 

Mesut looked at him in surprise. He had forgotten about Sami and the complications of his actions. It made him feel even worse that he didn’t actually think about it and he looked down to his hands Sergio was holding. He chewed his bottom lip and looked sullen upon realizing how he missed lots of things and how Sergio actually thought about all those. He heard the bullfighter laughed and the bed creaked as Sergio shuffled closer to cup his cheek and looked into Mesut’s big, chocolate eyes.

 

“Honestly? I only thought about it before I came here, so it’s okay.” He grinned cheekily.

 

The German gaped a little, but then he realized something. “Why…why are you planning to tell Sami?” he asked nervously, “Why did you even learn about that Germany age BS?”

 

Sergio gently patted his hand on Mesut’s soft cheek, “Why, isn’t that obvious?”

 

“No, it’s not.” The boy moved closer, squeezing the older man’s thighs impatiently, “Tell me.”

 

“It is okay here in Spain, yes,” Sergio tilted his head a little, “But after this, you’d be back home, right?” Mesut nodded, “I don’t want to be a damsel in distress and I don’t want to make you one either, so…”

 

“You…” the boy’s eyes gleamed, “You’re actually thinking of visiting Germany when I get back?”

 

“What, did it surprise you that much?” Sergio smiled, “Of course I will.”

 

“Then,” Mesut sounded shy in all of sudden, he felt like he knew where this was going but he did not want to assume. He really didn’t want to. “why tell Sami?”

 

“Well, duh, he’s my best friend and practically he’s your older brother.” He caressed the smooth strands of Mesut’s dark hair, “I’ve done something like this before, you know what family means to me.”

 

Blushing, Mesut ducked his head a little from Sergio’s touch. Sergio _did_ introduce him to his family, an awkward concept really, but he liked it and he found that he liked his family as well. Was that what Sergio was trying to tell him?

 

“Why is that important for you?” softly the boy asked, “For all I know, it’s something _I_ should deal with. Alone.”

 

The older man chuckled and leaned in to kiss the boy on the lips chastely. When he pulled back, Mesut was stunned at how warm and gentle those eyes were on him. “Don’t you get it, Mesut? I’m already in love with you.”

 

*


	13. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's still a long road to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's been long! I finally finished my exam and this is the first thing I finished on holiday. Also, there are appearances of guest stars! I had no idea why is this happening, but anyway, enjoy the drama. :*
> 
> (as usual, not beta-ed, and I'm too sleepy to proofread)

Sergio never felt so restless at work, spacing out during a photoshoot or interview. He apologized many times to many people that day and many people reminded him not to space out in the arena this afternoon. To space out anywhere out of the arena with one angry bull was, of course, much better. At least he knew how to keep his focus when he was at work after years of practice. It was the last interview he had today and he still had some time to rest before his next performance, but he chose to drive to a café nearby and left his brother to deal with some more talk with the people from some TV show.

 

He had no idea that he would ever recklessly tell that to Mesut. After the heavy petting session that came out of mere stupid jealousy, he had no idea that he would end up saying all those stupid things to Mesut. It all came out of bundled emotions and possibly the piled up stress from the sexual tension. He had foreseen how hard it would be for him before he even knows he’d reach this stage, he could totally deal with it (for now…), but it was not the worst part. The thing that had been bugging him ever since he left home yesterday after a chaste kiss Mesut was hesitant to give a reply to was that the German did not say anything about his little confession. He did _not_ expect Mesut to just duck his head when he heard it and blush, his lips pressed into a thin line. He did _not_ say anything more until Sergio left; he did _not_ even kiss him back. It set his cool on fire, for real.

 

Maybe Rene recognized his look when he dismissed Sergio; his brother knows him the best, he would figure out what to do about him even in a glance. He was grateful, but now sitting alone in this café with a cup of coffee, waiting for his food to arrive felt somehow pathetic. He should have at least brought Rene along; it was not something he could not talk with Rene, it was not something as complicated as Nando. He might turn this into ‘another Nando’, but it would not too late to talk to Rene. Sometimes he hated his brother’s job.

 

“Sergio Ramos Garcia, is that you?”

 

Sergio looked up and he smiled widely. He had to search for a name in his head first before he could find it to his tongue, “Hello, Rubio.”

 

The brunette woman laughed shortly; it was not a cute laugh, Sergio thought, but sure was a pretty one. She looked gorgeous today as well as the other days he saw her, but today she seemed to be more comfortable to dress in a frilly red tanktop, leather jacket, jeans, and boots. She didn’t sport the same curls like on the day when they met at the arena, but her wavy hair looked much better, Sergio thought.

 

“Do you mind if I sit down?” Rubio asked with a bright smile on her ruby colored lips.

 

“Sure, why not?” he got up to pull the seat next to him for her and she did. Sergio smiled at the faint scent of musky women’s perfume; it fits Rubio. He sat back down and turned to his companion, “Are you on your lunch break?”

 

“Yes. You?”

 

“I just had an interview around here and I heard from the crew that this place’s not bad.” He shrugged.

 

“It is not bad at all, actually. They serve the most decent food around here.” She chuckled while checking on the menu. She called a waiter, placed her order for a moment, and turned to Sergio afterwards. “It really is a surprise to meet you here. I know maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve always wanted to talk to you.”

 

The bullfighter was a little taken aback at the boldness, but then he found it kind of amusing. He had met fierce women before, but Rubio was more reserved. However, she was as forward as Sergio had expected. He didn’t know her that well, saw her shows once or twice, a friend introduced her to him, but that was all. “Now that we’re here, why don’t we talk then?” he shrugged with a small smile.

 

Rubio laughed a little, “I don’t mean it like that.” she bit her lower lip for a moment before she carried on, “I mean, like, I love bullfighting. I really do. You’re a bullfighter. Why don’t we go out some time and chat?” she glanced at him, a grin was playing on her lips, “I’ve always wanted to ask you but the timing is just never quite right. I guess I don’t want to miss my chance now.”

 

Sergio was a little perplexed. “Wow, Rubio-“

 

“Please just call me Pilar?” she batted her long eyelashes, “And don’t bother to carry on if you’re to say no.”

 

“You really are something, Pilar.” He cackled; she was amusing though it wasn’t as if the offer was interesting for him. He was not sure that it would do him any good. Sure, he found Pilar interesting, but he wasn’t sure if it was what he needed at this moment. He could feel Pilar’s eyes on him, but he did not say anything more. He might have been fooling around with many people before, but he never did that with more than one at once, especially now that he was already sure that he and Mesut definitely had something—anything. Or did they?

 

“Okay then.” Pilar pouted a little and leaned back on her seat, “Maybe next time?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

*

 

It had been hard for Mesut to get Sergio’s voice out of his head. He did not sleep well last night, thinking over about what Sergio just told him, so he decided to give Karim’s invitation a go and Sami texted his approval half an hour ago (another business lunch—no wonder Lena was lonely). It might help him not to think too much. He could not say that he had not been waiting for any sort of confirmation from Sergio about their relationship, about _what_ they are at this stage. Frankly speaking, he was beyond ecstatic that Sergio thought about him that much, that he even took things into his considerations when it comes to Mesut, but to hear that word…

 

He would not pretend that he was familiar with the concept of love. How could he understand when he just started to get familiar with how his hormones would lead him to pouncing Sergio whenever he could? Love, from what he had seen from people and movies, was a big deal. Sami and Lena are in love so that Sami left his family and all his past behind for Lena; it was a damn big deal. He considered Sami to be lucky that Lena was a (beautiful, incredibly kind) girl, but then the thought of his parents finding out that he went out with a guy haunted him. He was open about it, Sami was cool about other’s sexuality (not as if he enjoys sniffing around people’s business), his friends were cool with it as well, but then there was his family. He could actually imagine his mother crying, but she’d always support him no matter what. On the other hand, there was his father…

 

He sighed as he realized he was thinking way too far again. He heard Lena calling him and walked out of his bedroom lazily. He looked down from the mezzanine level to see his cousin-in-law standing just in front of the living room.

 

“Sami called, he said you’re going with _Karim_.” she had her hands on her shallow hips as she squinted up at the younger boy.

 

Mesut sighed a little, “He only invited me to hang out.”

 

“If you have time, why don’t you hang out with Sergio?” she pouted a little, “I don’t trust this Karim.”

 

“Lena, please,” the boy rolled his eyes, “Karim is nice. You’ll see him tonight.” He was about to go back to his bedroom to get ready, but he heard Lena calling him again.

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

Sighing, Mesut replied, “He doesn’t have time for me, okay?” he didn’t even bother to look at Lena.

 

*

 

It was a lie, of course. He did not look at Lena as he left home and went to the place where he met Karim the last time. The truth was he didn’t even talk to Sergio today. He had no idea what the older man was up to, but he was too nervous to text or call him. The look on Sergio’s face was still vivid in his head, he did not what that was all about, but he recognized disappointment once he pulled away from the last kiss they shared yesterday. Even the kiss tasted foreign for him. He regretted that he didn’t kiss him back, it was not what he intended to do, but he was not sure yet…did he love Sergio?

 

“Hey, lonely guy, need a ride?”

 

Mesut looked around and found Karim sitting on a classic bike, painted in white with dark blue accents in front of the bus stop. Chuckling, the German got up from his seat and walked towards his friend, “Hi, stranger.”

 

Karim gave him a look and tilted his head a little, “You okay, little man? You don’t look well.”

 

“I’m okay.” The younger one faked a big smile; he was a little relieved that Karim seemed to buy it. The French handed him a helmet and he put it on easily while eyeing the old, shiny beauty, “Triumph, huh? Whose bike did you steal?”

 

“Do I look that bad?” Karim pouted as Mesut climbed onto the passenger seat behind Karim.

 

“I never thought that you’re a classic bike kind of guy.” Mesut snickered. Personally, he kind of loved old bikes like this, thanks to his homeroom teacher, _herr_ Jogi, who was a die-hard fan of Vespa. “I’ve always wanted a bike like this, but mom would scream and cry.” Absentmindedly he added. Karim’s laughter was loud and as Mesut settled behind him, he automatically put his hands on Karim’s waist. It actually hit him that he could leisurely get this close to a man that was not his lifelong friend or Sergio. Karim was bigger than him, it was not new, but it was the first time he could actually feel the difference. And he smelt like liquorice and faintly like a flower he could not name.

 

“Hold onto me,” Karim said as he started the bike, “You can hug me if you want.”

 

Mesut grinned cheekily behind him, “Make me.”

 

*

 

The café was crowded already when they got there. Karim hand to grip on Mesut’s hand so he wouldn’t lost him as he led the boy through the crowd while the German was eyeing around the place. He found it interesting how the patterns on the wall and the decorations reminded him of the places Sergio brought him to, but the loud rock music playing somewhere in there, the colorful LED lighting system, and the endless racks of booze behind the bar of familiar brands gave it a touch of modern nuance. Mesut came to like this place quickly. He stumbled upon following Karim who had his hand in his steel-like-grip, blushing as a few girls giggled at him, but then they arrived to the bar on the end of the square-shaped club. He blinked and looked around; the stage was not quite big but not small either. Many people were standing before it, enjoying the loud music Mesut was unable to comprehend, while some sat on the lounge are near the bar.

 

“Mesut,” Karim literally _yelled_ right into his right ear, “I want you to meet my friends.”

 

The younger man only nodded and followed his friend (his hand was still safe in the older man’s grip) and he saw Karim greeting four other men on the bar, patting each other. “I brought a friend.” He informed them in English and Mesut stepped to his side.

 

“Hello!” the closest guy with brown hair (was it?) patted his shoulder in a friendly manner, “My name is Gonzalo Higuain, just call me Pipita!”

 

“Hi, I’m Mesut…”

 

“What did he say?” the guy with darker hair next to Pipita asked.

 

“He said his name is Mesut!”

 

“Mesut?”

 

“ _The_ Mesut, Karim??” another guy with extremely curly hair barked.

 

“Hi, Mesut, I’m Raphael.” The one next to the curly guy introduced himself as polite as he could yelling, “Don’t mind Samir and David, they’re always drunk.” Mesut pitied Raphael a little; he looked as if he wanted just to disappear upon his friends’ funny attitude.

 

“Not drunk enough to forget how Benz here never shut up about you!” David laughed loudly and Karim smacked him quite hard. Mesut blinked. “Watch it, you geezer! I’m made of skin and bones, unlike you!”

 

“Shut up.” Karim rolled his eyes as he pulled an empty stool for Mesut.

 

“David Luiz Moreira Marinho never lies, man!” Samir winked at Mesut once the boy took a seat and Mesut could feel his cheeks heated. “I can see now why he never shuts up.”

 

“Enough, you guys!” Karim sat down next to Mesut, finally letting his hand go, “Don’t scare our fan-to-be!”

 

The German laughed at that while his blush deepened. He remembered the ride he had just before when he felt a little cheeky and encouraged Karim; the guy did speed and freak him out to the point of crushing his nose into the French’s back. He didn’t know why, but a flash of excitement flickered in him. Karim was careful enough without spoiling his fun, it was refreshing.

 

“Are you guys going to the same university?” Mesut curiously asked.

 

“Yeah, we’re also in the same major.” Raphael replied.

 

“It explains everything, right??” David howled, “Little Rafa is still the way he is because it’s still his first year. Just wait until another year!”

 

“He’s mad, ignore him.” Karim chuckled and turned at him, “What would you like to drink?”

 

“None of what they’re having.” He grinned.

 

“Wise, man.” Pipita nodded at that.

 

“Where’s your spirit??” David shrieked.

 

“Orange juice then?” Karim asked again.

 

“Don’t spike it.”

 

The French grinned at him, “Is this another encouragement or what?”

 

“My cousins got your phone number.” Mesut stuck out his tongue playfully.

 

Karim laughed and ruffled his hair, “You cheeky little brat.”

 

*

 

He could not stop the laughter he emitted from talking with tipsy David and Pipita on the bar, those guys were hilarious even when they were sober (they turned out to be sober when Mesut came). It was either Karim spiked his drink or their bubbliness was infectious. Mesut liked to think that it was the second choice and it was more likely to be it because unlike David and Pipita who needs Samir and Raphael to help them walk when they were called up to the stage, Mesut was fine and pumped, even. Before he could follow the others, he could feel Karim’s arm around his shoulders and his lips lightly brushing against his earlobe.

 

“I want you to stand in front of the stage,” he mumbled; he had had drank a few bottles of beer, but he was still quite sober from the talk he had with Mesut before. “I want to see you, okay?” his voice was low and gentle, unlike his loud and chippery usual one.

 

“Alrighty.” The German smiled, more to himself. He couldn’t deny that he was comfortable around Karim and he liked his friends. It felt real good to relax like this, he had missed his friends back home (especially Thomas) and this felt quite close.

 

Karim made sure he stood right in front of the stage while the MC babbled in quick Spanish, introducing the band. Mesut watched as David struggled with his guitar strap, giggling as his loud curse was drowned in the audience’s loud cheer. Samir quickly took over the microphone and talked with the MC while Pipita found a comfy speaker to sit on with his bass and Raphael checked on his keyboard. Behind them, Karim sat down behind the drumset and retrieved his sticks out of the case. He glanced at Mesut once and winked, making the younger boy grin.

 

The MC left the stage and Sami greeted the audience in an awkward Spanish, grinning all the way to the girls who were on the first line. It made Mesut felt a little awkward standing there among the girls who appeared to be their fans or something like that, but once they started playing the first song, he found himself unable to take his eyes off Karim. He was perplexed at the concentration on Karim’s face that was not there before, the little quirk on his eyebrows and his pursed lips. His strong arms flexed as he beat the instruments powerfully (now he knew why Karim was so fond of wearing sleeveless shirts), he could hear girls chanting his name behind him. He didn’t know that his friend was _this_ popular, but then again, it’d be weirder if he wasn’t.

 

He did not miss a beat even though he already drank three bottles of beer, his head swayed along with the melody of David’s guitar. He was drowning, drowning in the depth of the song, into his own world that no one knew he had created only when he does that. He was no longer using his eyes, his hands know where to go, what to hit, when to flick. He could measure whether should he go hard and slow, his arm tensed when he summoned more energy to create louder sounds. Mesut was never into this kind of loud, noisy music genre. He did not even know how to enjoy it, but he was captivated at what he saw.

 

For the first time since they met, he finally recognized Karim as a man. An extremely smart, fun, talented, and good-looking man. The realization did not freak him out, he was rather calm now, unlike the first time he actually feel something for another man. That certain something that made him blush and squirm, like when Miroslav helped him on his football training and when Sergio first talked to him in his changing room so animatedly, but…hang on. He blinked. Something was a little off. He felt something different, yet he did not know what that was.

 

He stood still and did not realize when the band ended the third song tonight and went down from the stage. He only realized it when Karim practically draped himself all over him, the scent of liquorice he smelt before became stronger as now the French man was drenched in perspiration and excitement. Mesut looked up at him, staring at the strong jawbone and the flushed skin, and he was now sure something was completely off. Karim dragged him back to their spot on the bar and sat down, his arm never left Mesut.

 

“That was wicked!” David hollered and Pipita howled along with him. It appeared that that was how they attract girls because Mesut noticed that the girls from the same line he stood in before suddenly made beelines towards them. They were quite attractive, Mesut thought, too bad they like this bunch of madmen.

 

“How was it?” Karim took his attention and he looked at his friend.

 

“It was so cool. Everyone was crazy for you guys, it was awkward for me to stand among those girls, you know.” Mesut chuckled and thanked the bartender as he gave them both each a tall glass of orange juice.

 

Karim chugged his drink down to half and turned to the German again, “How was I?”

 

Mesut raised his eyebrow at that, but then he made a small smile. “You were okay.”

 

“Just okay?” Karim laughed, “ _Un tas de foutaise_! You could not stop looking at me, could you?” he nudged Mesut lightly, a wide grin on his face.

 

The younger man made a scandalous look, “But your eyes were closed all the time! How-“

 

“HA!” David screamed, “He got you, boy!” the other laughed, even Raphael. Mesut blushed hard, but then he laughed along.

 

“You prick.” He giggled as he covered his face with a hand.

 

“But I know you watched me all the time.” Karim grinned and leaned closer, his chin rested on Mesut’s shoulder, “Sexy, eh?”

 

“Piss off.” Mesut jokingly shoved him, but he didn’t particularly resist when the older man placed a hand on his thigh. He only smiled and eyed the French who looked so giddy like he had never seen before.

 

“No, Mes, quit joking-“

 

“I’m-“

 

“ _ORUJO_ FOR EVERYONE!!!!” the loudness that was David’s voice took over their attention. The bartender pushed a shot glass to Mesut and filled it with water-like clear liquid and did the same to Karim.

 

“But I don’t-“ Mesut stuttered, “I didn’t-“

 

“Just enjoy it, boy.” Samir snickered when David poured him more than the glass was capable to contain and turned to Raphael to do the same.

 

“Wait. We drink this shit straight!?” Raphael protested.

 

“Just get the one with fruits and juice later when you visit granny next time, Rafa…” Pipita teased, “You’re real man, aren’t you?”

 

Raphael only rolled his eyes. He looked like the only sensible enough to talk with, so Mesut asked him, “How strong is this?”

 

“The last time they fooled me into drinking this straight, I passed out on my 5th shot.” Rafa whined.

 

“Come on, Rafa, don’t scare the kid.” David smacked the younger boy’s head, “They got something like this in German too, I-I’m sure you can handle it, big guy…it’s called…in German…”

 

“Schnaps-something…” Pipita added.

 

Mesut was not sure. He had no idea how to explain if he comes home reeking of alcohol, but then he saw Karim taking his own glass. “Hey, you’re taking me home later!”

 

“I have high tolerance.” Karim chuckled, “Which I’m sure you do too, so no worries!”

 

The younger man considered momentarily, but then David ushered him and brought up his own glass, “To us!”

 

“To us!” the other four repeated and downed theirs. Mesut was still looking at them, the glass remained full.

 

“Come on, Mes, it’s okay!” Karim laughed.

 

He almost spilled it, but then he stopped hesitating. He then downed it in one go and gulped it. He felt the liquid burnt his throat and caused his eyes to water, it was bitter though still considered somewhat sweet (he had not yet that much experience with alcoholic beverages). It left a strong wooden aftertaste on his tongue and breath, his eyes brimmed with tears. It wasn’t as bad as he expected though.

 

“Good job, Mes!” Karim barked as he pulled the younger boy closer, looping his arm around his shoulders. Mesut only laughed, but then Pipita already prepared another round and poured him some again.

 

“To Mesut!!”

 

“N-no, wait-“

 

“To Mesut!”

 

As if he had any choice, really.

 

*

 

“Fucking _Tresterbrand_.”

 

Mesut was crouching on the pavement, holding onto his head as if it could fall off anytime while Karim was giggling in front of him, still standing straight after four shots of that damned thing. The others already went home when Mesut found out that he was unable to stand straight without holding onto something. It was a little shocking when he tried to get up and everything blurred a little, his feet felt so light and his body seemed to recognize the rule of gravity no longer. Karim crouched down in front of him and patted his shoulder.

 

“You okay? Do you want to go home now?”

 

“Home. Yeah. Right.” The German moaned and tried to get up, “Stay still, Karim, you’re making me dizzy.”

 

“I am staying still, Mesut.” Karim chuckled amusedly as the younger man used his arm to lever himself up on the French man’s shoulder.

 

“Okay.” He took a deep sigh, “Okay, I’m cool. I can deal with Sami. What time is it?” he slurred.

 

“I’ve been telling you, your cousin keeps on texting and calling me. It’s 1 AM.”

 

“ _Verdammt_!” Karim didn’t understand what Mesut just said, but he was sure it was a curse. “Okay…just…be cool. Have you…said anything to Sami?”

 

“I told him we’re on our way.” Karim smiled.

 

“ _Gut_. _Gut_. Let’s go.” He tried to take a step, but then he flailed and Karim caught him on time. “Does this mean I have to cling on you forever??” Mesut cried desperately.

 

“No, _ami_ , but I’d really like the idea.” He helped Mesut to climb onto the motorbike and put his helmet on. Mesut pulled the lid of his helmet open and eyed Karim skeptically (only, he turned out like a puppy exposed to too much light) as the French was putting on his own.

 

“You know w-what…? You’ve been flirting with me all day. Just in case you didn’t realize.”

 

“Really?” Karim grinned as he climbed onto the front seat of the bike, “I do realize that I’m flirting with you. Since day one, even.”

 

“You’re just like those French guys in movies, so good at f-flirting.” Mesut circled his arms around Karim’s larger form, “I can’t do flirt. I’m suck at it.”

 

“Maybe you just don’t realize. You’re pretty good.” Karim replied, “Hold on tight.”

 

“Make meeee…!”

 

*

 

It was humid and hot. He could not comprehend what was going on, but there was a banter of words—not so witty ones, if he reviewed on his. It was dim outside of Sami’s house and the area was empty. He did not remember Karim climbing down the bike after he did, he did not remember Karim pushing him against the fence, he did not remember how one of Karim’s hand was on his butt and the other one cupping his face. He specially had no idea how Karim’s lips could be on his, mashed against his, wet and warm. The squeeze on his bottom did sober him up even better, but then again it was too late. He had no idea how long this had been going, Karim did not show any sign of stopping, and when he was about to push him off, the front door was opened and both boys stopped in surprise. Mesut started wishing that it wasn’t Sami, but when he turned around, he realized that if it wasn’t Sami, it’d be worse.

 

Lena was standing in the doorway in her robe, her face clean, but taut with what Mesut would relate only to anger. She crossed her arms and eyed her cousin rather sharply. She must have seen what happened.

 

“Uh, I’m going now, I guess…” Karim mumbled and released the slighter man, finally. “Uh, goodnight Mesut, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He smiled widely, obviously he did not recognize the horror in Mesut’s eyes, and glanced at Lena, “I’m sorry for being late, Mrs. Khedira, thank you!” he turned to his motorbike and put on his helmet before he dashed off.

 

Mesut had to lean onto the fence some more to recollect his composure and breath. He then walked into the yard with his head hanged low; cheeks were dark, and his eyes unfocused. Once he walked through the doorway, Lena closed the door and locked it. He knew Lena would want to have a talk and wouldn’t want to wait until tomorrow, so he waited.

 

“You reek of alcohol.” Lena coldly spat. Getting no reply, she carried on, “Did I just see what I just saw?” she sounded so dangerous and angry. If Sami wasn’t home (or upstairs, possibly sleeping), she would’ve screamed, Mesut was so sure.

 

Yet, Mesut still couldn’t answer to that.

 

“I don’t know how drunk you are, Mesut, but let me tell you this isn’t right.” He had never heard Lena so angry like this, but she still tried to control herself. “Now go to your bed, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.” Quickly Mesut walked towards the stairs and bolted upstairs. He went straight into his bedroom, he didn’t even feel bothered to take his shoes off and threw himself onto his bed.

 

He could not explain it with words. It was a horrible, horrible thing he was feeling. He had no idea how to react. At first he was just getting used to the rush of familiar feelings that overcame him upon realizing how attractive Karim was. He was just trying to identify, to seek for what that minor glitch was all about when he felt something was off, but then everything became blurry and when he returned to his senses again, Karim was all over him. Honestly, he had never felt so frightened, shocked, anxious, yet excited, all at once. What frightened him the most was his excitement; it made everything felt out of place. He should not have—how did it even start? He was so scared that he wanted to push away, to kick Karim off him because the unpleasant feeling grew stronger and stronger.

 

He felt like he could cry now and the dizziness did not help. He came to realization why it didn’t feel right, why it felt wrong, why it was not supposed to happen. He could still feel Lena’s judging look on him, he deserved it. It was never as if anyone would do, he might have never turn gay at all; he just could not do it because Karim was not Sergio.

 

It should _only_ be Sergio and no one else.


	14. Piece of Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's surprisingly easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the title say, it's all easy and fluffy and sickeningly cheesy (this is a warning).  
> I blame this -> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYR2rp9PaFE  
> All I can think about is painfully sweet romance et al, but I really like this song!   
> ALSO:  
>   
> my sweets bias.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

It was awkward when he came down later than usual. Sami just finished his breakfast and Lena was cleaning the table and the first thing the older man had to ask was how the night went. Mesut flinched a bit, he was sure Lena noticed, and he barely answered and he walked towards the kitchen to get himself lots of water. He woke up with a headache today and he didn’t feel good. The worst thing was he could actually taste the strong liquor in his breath and the faint foreign taste of something else…or maybe someone else. The thought kept him in the bathroom for ten minutes, trying hard not to vomit due to the headache and the sudden anxiety attack from the sudden surge of memories from last night. God had enough mercy on him for letting him to sleep dreamless slumber, but the morning after was more unpleasant than anything.

 

He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and glanced at Lena, “Here,” she whispered softly as she handed him some aspirins, “Do you want to eat?”

 

The thought of eating was not on his priority at the moment, especially once he felt his stomach churn upon hearing that. He simply shook his head and took the pills gratefully. He promised that he would never, ever do that again to himself silently. He had his fairly unpleasant experience; he never wanted to feel like this again. He popped the pills into his mouth and downed some more water. He walked to the kitchen counter and sat down, cradling his head in his hands. He then heard the chair next to him moved and he knew Lena was sitting on it. It was a little relieving that the pills took effect pretty quickly and his headache started to subside.

 

“Are you feeling better now?” Lena’s voice was so gentle that it doubled up his guilt.

 

“A little, yeah.” He darted his eyes around the kitchen but on his cousin’s face. He was afraid that he’d see worries in her eyes.

 

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

 

Mesut weakly nodded, “I just don’t want to think about it.”

 

“Mesut, you can’t keep running away from things.”

 

“Well, I feel disgusted, Len.” Mesut mumbled, looking straight to his toes, “It wasn’t what I intended to do…I was…I thought…” he bit his lower lip and finally looked at his cousin nervously, “Sergio told me that he loves me.”

 

Upon hearing that, Lena actually almost fell off her chair, but what would years of modeling do to her if not to keep her composure? She nodded and encouraged her cousin to carry on by touching his hand on the counter.

 

“He did. And I was confused…I…I was not sure if that’s what I want.” Mesut stuttered, “I know I’ve been moaning to you about how…weird everything is, a relationship like this sure is funny, I don’t understand you adults. You were like, ‘okay let’s go out and maybe make out a little because you have to watch your step’. Do you know how confusing that is?” he started mumbling, but Lena understood what he was saying. “It’s like saying a whole two different things at once, but then suddenly he said…that…and I didn’t know what to say because it feels like someone just asked for my hand!” his eyes wandered to his feet again, “I’ve never been in a relationship with any man. Not to mention a way older man who is friends with my stupid overprotective cousin.”

 

Lena tilted her head a little, trying to catch her cousin’s wandering eyes, “You do know you have me on your back, right?”

 

“I know, Len.” He looked into those grey orbs again, feeling slightly better and miraculously his headache subsided quicker.

 

“Do you want to talk about this Karim guy?”

 

Mesut tensed at that and looked away, “I have no idea what was that. We were drunk.”

 

“He was not.” Lena tried, “At least not as drunk as you were.”

 

“He has no reason to do that…” It was a weak defense since he found himself uncertain. He remembered they had some sort of talk, but he did not know what that was all about. “But…”

 

“But…?”

 

“I…” the boy hesitated, “When he…did that…I hate it.” He muttered, “I don’t like it. I don’t even want it, and I thought maybe—maybe I don’t want it and I cannot stand it because he isn’t Sergio.” The healthy color was back on his cheeks as he said that, “Sergio…doesn’t scare me like that. He isn’t like what Sami told me, he is gentle and kind. I’m not saying that Karim is not kind, he’s just…different. I’m aware that he is good-looking, he is attractive Len, you might notice if you look closer—“ (Lena could not help that tiny snort)—“but then again, I don’t want that. From him, at least.” He looked as if he just got hit by a something that he had missed all his life at the moment; eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I only want Sergio.”

 

“Oh, darling.” Lena ruffled his hair gently.

 

“I do like him. So much.” He admitted, “But ‘love’ is a strong word, I don’t know about that, Len.”

 

“Try to talk to him.” Lena suggested with a smile, “Your cousin sometimes is stubborn; he has his way of branding people, but know that he loves Sergio just as much. I don’t know why he specifically tries not to let you two to hang out too much, I’m sure he’s just worried, but whatever he says, no matter how conventional he tends to be when it comes to you, don’t listen to him when he says bad things about Sergio. It’s like their way to show each other that they actually care.” Lena chuckled and Mesut smiled at that. “He knows Sergio better than I do; he’s just being dumb. I’m sure if you’d talk to Sergio, he’ll understand.”

 

“Would it be that easy?”

 

“He’ll make it easy for you.” Lena winked, “He loves you anyway.”

 

The younger German flushed hard and Lena got up from her seat, “Do you want to eat anything now?”

 

“Later maybe.” He lazily got off his seat, planning to spend the day sleeping.

 

“Oh,” Lena stopped her track and turned to Mesut again, “About that boy from last night. You won’t hang out with him again, will you?”

 

The boy blinked and considered his answer. “I…don’t know. I mean, he was drunk anyway. He’s basically a nice guy.” He shrugged; even it felt heavy on his tongue to say that.

 

Lena rolled her eyes and sighed, “I don’t want to sound like Sami, but I think the boy is a bad news. You cannot drink alcohol without someone responsible around.” She squinted a little, suddenly looking overly skeptical, “He doesn’t seem to be responsible enough.”

 

“Well, he _did_ take me home.” Mesut chuckled uneasily as he walked towards the door, “No worries, Len, I think I can handle this one.”

 

*

 

Sundays never felt this boring before. Usually Sergio would sleep the entire day off or visit his dearest Daniela, but he felt like to see Mesut instead. He was not sure whether he should call him or not, he had to be careful so Sami would not suspect anything—which makes everything even harder. Walking in circle in front of his bed was not helping. Finally he decided to test the water by texting the much younger man—boy—Mesut. He had been trying to look at him differently, but no matter how hard he embraced his indecency, it was harder to look at Mesut as an object like the first time he intended to. Hence his confession, now he could not take it back (it was not as if he wanted to).

 

His phone vibrated on the bed; it was surprisingly quick. He took it and beamed at the message. Mesut said that he might be able to sneak out later today but more than that, he was more relieved at the fact that Mesut actually replied. He had made up his mind; he could wait. He was sure he would be able to endure as long as he gave this a try.

 

*

 

It was a surprise that Sergio texted him earlier that day. It made him even twitchier than before due to the things that had happened, he couldn’t overcome his guilt and ‘can I see you to talk’ was not exactly comforting. He felt like Sergio caught him doing those terrible things somehow and wanted to end everything. He did not want any of that, he was now aware of how naïve and (sometimes) stupid he was, but one thing he knew very well that Sergio was the only one he really wanted and ever needed this much. No matter how tired and sick he felt, he could not miss this and agreed to wait for the older man in that café Karim brought him to a few days ago (wrong decision, really; he did _not_ want to remember Karim at all today). It was surprisingly empty today, only a few people sitting by the sofas while reading books or working on their laptop.

 

He took the table in the corner on purpose so that he could concentrate while trying to think. He tried hard to recount the things from last night while he sat in the café alone, waiting for the older man. He remembered the crazy bunch, he even remembered that brief sensation of _something_ as he watched Karim last night, but everything was blurry down to the point of Karim kissing him. He grew tired and gave it up for now; he’d figure it out later when he gets better. Suddenly he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and looked up over his back to find Sergio smiling at him from behind his shades. He blushed as the older man squeezed his shoulder gently.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

Sergio sat down across the table and took his shades off—he looked beautiful like he always had. He looked into Mesut’s face momentarily and his face fell a little upon realizing the dar circles around those pretty eyes and the color on his face.

 

“Mesut, are you okay? You don’t look good.” He worriedly asked.

 

“Yeah, I…didn’t sleep well…” he lied. The burden within him only felt a little heavier after that, what was he thinking?

 

“Have you ordered anything? You look like you could use some munchies.” Sergio reached his hand on the table and gave it a squeeze with a small smile, “Isn’t this the café with those cupcakes that you like?”

 

The younger boy smiled back and eased a little as he squeezed the older man’s hand back, “It really is okay, Sese.” He blushed once that silly nickname escaped his lips; it felt like he hadn’t been calling him that for a long time. “I…anyway…what do you want to talk about?”

 

Mesut felt the matador’s hand retreated from his and it felt cold all over again. “Well,” the Spaniard patiently started, “I want to apologize…about that thing I did.” He made a funny face, “Don’t get me wrong though, it’s not that  I’m taking back what I said, but I noticed that it made you feel perhaps a bit…surprised?”

 

“Ah…” the younger man flushed a bit and looked down to the table. He heard Lena’s voice in his head telling him to just be honest about it, but then he found his heart filtering what he should say or not. “I don’t know how to say this,” Mesut had to squeeze his own knees to stay calm, “I…yeah, it did take me by surprise. I didn’t expect you to…say that.” He started running his fingers through his hair, feeling more at ease after he did so, then he tried to look into Sergio’s eyes, “I was surprised. I’m sorry that I couldn’t…say anything to that-“

 

“I didn’t-“

 

“I know you didn’t,” Mesut smiled nervously—it was weird that he knew what the older man was about to say even before he could finish it, “But even though you did expect an answer—reaction, or anything, it was not right that I disappeared on you.”

 

Sergio blinked, but then he understood and for once, he flushed out of embarrassment upon Mesut’s capability to catch on such a thing. He crossed his arms on the table and chewed his lip, “Uh. How—how did you…”

 

“I hope I’m not being too self-centered, but Sese, we’re in contact on daily basis.” The younger boy smiled shyly, he crossed his arms on the table as well, “I don’t know what that is, but I haven’t been quite myself since you said that. I didn’t intend to…make you feel bad or anything. I just,” he sighed, “What you said to me…I’m not sure that—that I feel the same…no, no, wait!” Mesut reached for Sergio’s hand as he saw his face fell and the smile ceased; he would _not_ be able to endure _that_. “I…I don’t know whether I feel that for you or not, but I _know_ that I _only_ want you. I can’t…with anyone else…okay?” he blushed hard, but he kept his eyes on the older man’s, “I like you so much. I want to be with you. I want to call you _my_ boyfriend and only you, but I can’t…not yet…”

 

“I understand.” Sergio gently wrapped a hand over Mesut’s. “I might’ve gone too fast. It really is okay, Mes, I can live with that. I was actually freaking out a little; I thought you’re going to dump me or something.”

 

Mesut let out a small laughter, “You silly man.” It already felt as if all the burden on his shoulders was lifted in a fraction of second and he remembered how to breath again. He felt more relaxed now; he should’ve done this earlier.

 

“Would you like to get a takeout of those cupcakes that you like and tea?” Sergio pulled the German’s hand into his to plant a kiss, “Then we can spend some time somewhere until Sami nags you.” He placed the boy’s hand back on the table and got up from his seat.

 

“Get the red velvet one, Sese.” He smiled at the Spaniard until he left the table. It felt so much better now, he felt warm and comfy inside, he couldn’t wait until he could leave this café—he really didn’t want to think about Karim to ruin his fine Sunday. He got up from his seat as well to join his boyfriend (now it felt right to call him _his_ boyfriend) at the showcase, but when turned around he heard the café door creaked and clinked.

 

“Mesut?”

 

He froze upon seeing Karim on the doorway, holding the door for a really cute girl behind him. He looked at the French man in his utmost horror; why this had to happen _now_?

 

“Hi, Karim.” He tried not to sound nervous as he slowly walked. He could hear Karim spoke in French to the girl behind him and the girl walked towards the showcase while Karim walked towards Mesut excitedly.

 

“Hey, how are you doing, man? I hope we didn’t tire you out last night!” he snickered loudly with the usual larger-than-life-grin that Mesut had yet to get accustomed again since last night. It actually made the German wonder; Karim looked extremely relaxed and he was his usual bubbly self. It was possible that he did not even remember the kiss; maybe he was _that_ drunk last night after all.

 

“Oh.” Mesut muttered, “Yeah. Haha. A little headache, but I’m okay.”

 

“It’s good to hear that.” Karim beamed. Out of blue, he reached out to touch Mesut’s chin and lifted his face up a bit to take a better look. It startled the German, but then there was that gleeful smile again, “Aw, look. You have dark circles around your eyes.”

 

“Uh…”

 

“Mesut, you okay?”

 

Sergio was suddenly standing behind him and actually pulled him back a little, out of Karim’s reach. He looked at Sergio who had his eyes on Karim, cold and distrust in them. Karim was a little surprised as well, but not as much as Mesut was. It was the moment he’d really like to just evaporate into thin air; he had never thought that such a thing could happen in real life (he had seen this kind of awkward scenes on sitcoms his mother loves to watch way too much), how come this became like this? Was it his punishment of some sort?

 

“Uh, Sese…this is Karim Benzema,” he tried to get rid of the uncomfortable tension between them by doing the only basic thing he knew; a nice, warm introduction. “The friend I mentioned to you before…? And…Karim, this is Sergio Ramos, my boyfriend.”

 

The matador still eyed Karim skeptically, but the French man easily smiled at him and offered him a hand, “Hey, man. Mesut talked about you a lot.”

 

As surprised Sergio was, it surprised Mesut even more at how easy this thing turned out to be. Sergio finally warmed a bit ( _just_ a bit) and shook Karim’s hand, “He did mention you before. How are you?”

 

“I’m cool. Just hanging out with my girlfriend over there.” He referred to the girl Mesut saw earlier who was choosing some cupcakes at the moment. It was odd though, he didn’t remember if Karim had ever mentioned that he had a girlfriend before. “I guess I’ll see you guys later, eh?”

 

“Oh. Sure, Karim.” Mesut really could not believe his luck; Karim seemed to be unaware of the kiss at all and the tension subsided simply in a second. It was very relieving that he could cry; now thinking about those seemingly insignificant matters way too much felt like such a waste of energy. “See you then.”

 

“Benzema.” Sergio nodded a little at him as he passed by and they went out of the café as quick as possible.

 

*

 

Retiro was full of children and families during Sundays, but this side of the lake was not occupied, so they decided to sit there for a while. It was weird to see a man like Sergio dressed in suit and sat on the grass just under the tree by the lake, sipping some cheap (possibly) tasteless milk tea with a decorative red velvet cupcake in his hand. It was a good thing that he left his sunglasses back in the car; he’d appear even weirder. Mesut chuckled, “Were you at work or something today?”

 

“Huh?” Sergio eyed him, “Nope, I was at home. Why?”

 

“You’re wearing suit.” Mesut shrugged and took his own cupcake, the soft sweet smell made his stomach rumble a little.

 

“I wear suit all the time, if you didn’t notice.” The Spaniard chuckled and tore the wrapper around his cupcake off, “Okay, how you eat this, really? It got too much cream and frosting, is this what kids nowadays eat? And sugar. Do you know how bad junk food is? The color is also…way too bright-”

 

“I know you’ve been getting bullshits about healthy diet all your life, Sese, but trust me and try it!” Mesut shook his head amusedly. No wonder Sergio was always the one to choose what to eat; he was a diet freak after all. He leaned onto Sergio and took a big bite out of his cake, humming at the blissful taste of the cheese cream and chocolate. He should’ve asked Sergio to buy more.

 

“I don’t know whether I’m going to like this, but I like watching you eat that.”

 

“Huh?” Mesut looked up to him and the Spaniard grinned even wider; the younger man didn’t seem to be aware that he got some of the cream on his lips. He didn’t hold back and bent down to kiss the boy briefly and licked his lips a little. Mesut blinked at him before he moved away. “W-what?”

 

“I guess the taste is quite acceptable.” The older man chuckled and took a bite. He then looked a bit surprised and muttered appreciatively with his mouth full, “Oh. _God_.”

 

“I told you.” Mesut laughed and took another bite and leaned onto his boyfriend again.

 

“Oh, about that _friend_ of yours,” Mesut didn’t like how he exaggerated that word, “You went out with him last night?”

 

“Oh. You heard that?” it was exactly the right question to make his appetite disappear instantly.

 

“Well, _your friend_ was kind of loud.” Sergio muttered.

 

“Uh…I just went to see his band.” He tried to sound casual while the kissing scene with Karim chose to repeat itself in his head over and over again as if it was trying to wreck his peace, “We hanged out and sent me home a little late.” He faked a chuckle and glanced at Sergio. The older man was silent for a while but then he shrugged a little and took another bite of his cake. He chewed quite slowly, and before he could say anything, Mesut impatiently asked, “I hope it’s not a problem?”

 

“Huh?” Sergio turned his gaze to his younger boyfriend and tried to smile, “It’s not, _chico_. At least I’ve met him,” He ruffled the German’s hair gently, “So that if anything happens to you, I know exactly who to hunt down.”

 

Mesut shivered a little at the glint he just saw briefly in the matador’s eyes; it wasn’t quite there, but he was sure he saw it. Sometimes he forgot that Sergio was capable of doing such a thing, yet he still could not comprehend the idea. He gave him a weak smile instead and nodded. If only Sergio knew better, really…but he’d rather not to think about the possibility.

 

“Isn’t your birthday is coming soon, Mes?” the Spaniard suddenly asked.

 

“Yeah, about two weeks from now.” Mesut took another bite and put his cake back into the box, he moved away a little to reach his milk tea and turned to face the older man, “Why is that?”

 

“Don’t you remember what I told you?” Sergio smirked and bit on his cake.

 

The younger man tried to remember and then he looked perplexed. “Is it the…age thing…?”

 

Sergio almost spat out his cake upon hearing that and turned his eyes back on his boyfriend, “That wasn’t—isn’t what I’m talking about, Mes.” He felt like laughing, but the confusion and the obvious setback on the German’s face was way too adorable, “Well, of course _that_ as well, but I’m talking about the trip I promised you.”

 

“Ibiza?” Mesut’s face lightened up in a fraction of second.

 

“Yeah.” Sergio grinned, “I want to be there on your day with you and hopefully the following days too.” He casted his eyes on the German, those eyes were gentle and warm, those were the eyes Mesut got himself lost into, “I love you.”

 

This time Mesut answered with a smile and he shuffled closer to take one of Sergio’s hands into his. He placed a small kiss on the fingers and looked up to him, beaming with affection. “Thank you.”

 

*


	15. Hot and Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little misunderstanding, someone needs to be slapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~  
> How are you guys doing? Apparently my landlord gave up waiting for the internet provider to get our connection fixed, so I just have to sneak up to my friend's room to use his. I do think that this is moving a little bit too fast and, hey, 15th chapter! Thanks for sticking up with me and my grammar destruction this far! :*

Mesut grew restless at the house and started spending more time outside. He couldn’t help it because if it wasn’t Sami who was being himself, it was Lena constantly worrying him. He appreciated that, really. He even knew that she said only the right things to do; she was slowly turning into Sami (the difference would only be the resentment toward Sergio’s advances to Mesut). It was nice that Sami seemed to have forgotten about Karim and stopped bringing up the Saturday night thing he described as an ‘adolescent date’, yet Lena was not so. She warned him, over and over again, to try not to hang out with Karim too often to the point that made the younger German thought that if he were to cut the French boy off, she’d throw a fucking party.

 

Today he found himself in the old bookstore where he met Karim the first time. Sergio texted him yesterday, telling him the usual story about being busy and stuff, and he hadn’t heard anything from him today. He grew accustomed to it though, he just couldn’t yet get used to the ‘I love you’ by the end of his texts. Going through pages of an old book with a language he couldn’t even understand soothed him a little, the smell of the papers were weirdly comforting. However, he wasn’t in the mood for coincidence this time, so he placed the book back on the shelf to leave the place, but when he turned to leave, he saw a familiar guy in the aisle and stared at him for a moment.

 

“Hey.”

 

The man turned a look at him and looked a little surprised, “Oh, hi.” He gave a small uncertain smile as he waved at the German, “Um…Mesut, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, you are…” he took a step closer while trying to find a name in his head, but the memory was rather cloudy, “…Raphael? Rafa?”

 

“Yeah, man, that’s me.” The owner of the name laughed, “How are you doing?” he offered a hand and Mesut awkwardly shook it.

 

“Fine…yeah…” instead of feeling like he knew Raphael, he felt the memory rushed to him like a wave of _déjà vu_. It felt a little weird. “What are you up to?”

 

“I’m just looking for some materials. For school.” The taller man weighed a book in his hands.

 

“Oh.” Mesut knew him alright; he was the least inappropriate of the group that night and seemed to behave well all the time. He wouldn’t want to rely on his instincts on guessing others’ characters, but he sensed that Raphael was a little bit like him; awkward and shy albeit he appeared like a straight A’s student. “Ka…you’re not with your friends?”

 

“Nah,” Raphael shook his head, “I…have assignments, so…”

 

“I see.” It really was awkward if Mesut already felt a great urge to scratch the back of his head; he didn’t even know why did he greet him at the first place. “Anyway…I should get going-“

 

“W-wait.”

 

“Yeah?” Mesut looked up at him. Damn, this guy was _really_ tall.

 

Raphael looked a little concerned as he chewed on his lip, “I know it’s not my business, but after the show…I didn’t really remember, but the guys told me Karim sent you home. Are…are you okay?”

 

It startled the German a bit; his heart beat in quicker pace at the memory of the particular incident. “Well…yeah. I’m still in one piece.” He let out a humorless laugh then bit down his tongue, wishing that Raphael wouldn’t notice.

 

“He…didn’t do…or say anything weird?”

 

“Nothing that I remember.” Mesut lied, he was sick of people worrying his ass, but it was weird coming from someone who wasn’t particularly a friend of his. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Nothing.” Raphael laughed nervously; he obviously wasn’t good at lying. He poked on the tip of his nose as he spoke, “I remember you were quite out of it and he was tipsy. It wasn’t a problem if he was drunk, at least he would just sleep, but when he’s tipsy he tends to be stupid…” he paused as he realized what he just said and he put his hand back on his hips, “Sorry. I rattle.”

 

He eyed the taller man, “It’s cool.”

 

The bigger boy chuckled, “I gotta’ dash, kay? See you around.”

 

Mesut watched Raphael fled while pondering in confusion. He did seem genuinely worried, he could even tell from his tone, but why would he care anyway? If he should be worried, he should worry for Karim. It wasn’t as if they talked that much to make proper acquaintances. Sure, he liked Raphael’s composure and how he appeared to be able to control himself around the crazy bunch even though he was the youngest out of the group, but that was all. He walked out of the shop and joined the crowd of pedestrians, still trying to figure it out since he found it bugging his mind a little. Did he know about the kiss? Even if he found out, what was it to him anyway?

 

The thought didn’t run in his head longer than that, though. Something already caught his attention on the newsstand he just walked past and he quickly turned his head to take a look, to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He approached the stand and took a look at a cheap-looking gossip tabloid, staring at it as for some time until his brain finally registered what he was looking at. He couldn’t missed it as the seller asked him something in Spanish, the question came in a rush but he knew he could pick up a few words and he was aware he couldn’t possibly take it wrong.

 

*

 

“Len, you there?”

 

Lena turned her pretty eyes off the TV and smiled as Mesut snuck into the living room. “Hey, you. Where have you been?”

 

“Around.” The boy lazily sat down next to her, he was holding something in his hand.

 

“What do you get there?”

 

“I don’t know.” Mesut threw his head back and stared at the ceiling, “Translate it for me?”

 

The blonde woman looked at him quizzically and took the paper—a tabloid, rolled in his hand and unfolded it. She stayed stunned for a moment on the cover, thinking that her eyes might deceive her, but no. “ _Schatzi_ ,” Lena tried with an uneasy smile, “this tabloid is a crappy one, they just-“

 

“At least they got the photo right.” Mesut muttered, “I’ve seen her before. Most definitely, I can’t be mistaken about _him_ , can I?”

 

His cousin glanced at him worriedly and back to the tabloid again. On the cover, there was a photo of the two people she actually knows; a very good friend and a long-lost acquaintance. It was a blurry one, but even she couldn’t be mistaken; it was Sergio and Rubio, appearing to be in an intimate conversation in a café somewhere in the town. It was heavily captioned with cheap media-style ill humor and there was a quote from Rubio. Her stomach churned at the piece of a quote and the sickening captions. She placed the tabloid on the table and turned the TV off.

 

“I still refuse to buy this crap, Mes.”

 

“Well, I don’t buy it,” The younger one turned a look at her, “But I don’t have to like it.”

 

“ _Schatzi_.” Lena touched her cousin’s arm gently. She couldn’t get the captions out of her head either, it was cheap and tasteless, but she couldn’t deny a moment of distrust at Sergio at least for a second. “I know them. I even know her. She’s a big fan of him, nothing less; it could be just a coincidence. The media had been trying to play matchmaker on them for a long time, you see. It’s just the kind of thing that they like.”

 

“Why is he not denying this then?” his voice sounded far and far too reluctant for Lena’s liking, “He told me she’s a friend. Maybe I’m too slow to take the hint.” He murmured.

 

“Mesut, I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

 

“There will be.” The boy sighed and got up from his seat, “But right now I don’t want to listen nor care. It’s rather annoying, really.” He chuckled humorlessly and gave a small fake smile to Lena, “I just need to get this out of my system, I’m sorry.” Which he did not and the older woman didn’t like that.

 

“Take your time, Mes, but not too long. This is a child’s play, he-“

 

“He shouldn’t have told a child that he loves him.” Mesut’s voice was calm, but sharp on the edges. “I’m a kid after all, he knows that all to well.” He turned and left for his room, leaving his cousin dumbfounded.

 

*

 

He knew it was bad when he was told by Rene to come up to his office only to be sat down for an hour while his brother was off doing his thing. The phones in the small office didn’t stop ringing ever since he got there, Rene’s secretary couldn’t even properly greet him when he arrived and now Rene only sat behind his desk, replying mails, and put most of the calls on hold. He could hear his brother’s secretary voice telling him nameless tabloids and magazines whenever there was a new phone call. He couldn’t help but to feel a guilty; what did he do wrong this time?

 

Rene seemed to grew a little restless behind the desk and took the mouthpiece to talk to his secretary, “Julia? I’m not taking anymore calls, okay? Save ones from the sponsors. Thank you, _chica_.” He hanged up and turned to his younger brother. “So?”

 

“What?” Sergio tried his best not to sound defensive, better yet offensive. “I just woke up an hour ago, Rene, and you didn’t tell me anything. What’s the fuss is all about?”

 

“This.” The older man clicked something on his keyboard and turned the screen aside for the matador to see.

 

The younger man’s eyes widened and he parted his lips to say something, but he had no idea what to say. There was a picture of him and Rubio from that one time in the café, it was rather unfocused but anyone could tell who they are very easily; a paparazzi, of course, who else?

 

“This…has been published?”

 

“It made headlines almost in every single unreliable magazine out there, slipped to some good ones.” The older man sighed and took out a pack of cigarette, “It came up on some TV shows, now they’re asking for explanation. Not the end of the world yet, but I need to know something.” He lit up a stick and took a deep drag before he released the smoke slowly, “You’re not going out with her.”

 

“Damn sure I’m not.”

 

“You didn’t give her wrong ideas, did you?”

 

“Okay.” Sergio tried to cool down, “Listen. Yes, she did flirt with me. A lot. I did humor her, but that one time, I turned her down. I made it clear.”

 

“Alright.” Rene nodded and took another drag on his cigarette, “I will call her agent and tried to make an arrangement then. Let’s hope she’s not ‘clarifying’ things already ‘cause you know this kind of penetration happens on both sides.” He tapped the stick lightly onto the ashtray, dragging ash lightly on the edge of it.

 

“Please do. Quick.” The younger Spaniard mumbled.

 

The older man stared at him for a while and took a deep sigh, “I know I shouldn’t care that much, but you’re my brother, for god’s sake.” He scratched the back of his head, he could feel that his brother was going to say something, but he held his hand up and reached for the phone, “I know that look, _Cuqui_. You’re in love again, but this time I can’t promise that I’d save your ass.”

 

Sergio grinned. “Do what you have to; this time I’m saving my own ass, bro.” he got up from his seat, “Now am I dismissed? Yes I am.” He skipped towards the door and ran his way out without even sparing a glance at Rene’s secretary.

 

As he headed downstairs of the building, he dialed Mesut’s number hastily and skipped the steps a few times. He groaned as the boy didn’t pick up. This could _not_ be happening. He just tried to make it alright; he just made sure that it’d be okay, what he did wrong this time? He got into his car and grabbed his key out of his jacket, but then his phone rang. Swiftly he grabbed it hopefully, but as he saw the caller ID, he found an unrecognized number.

 

“Hello.” He picked it up.

 

“Sergio? It’s Pilar.”

 

The matador man ran his fingers through his blonde locks; he wasn’t sure that it was the right time to deal with her, but she sounded exasperated. “Hi.”

 

“I assume you’ve heard.” The woman gulped from the other line, “I had no idea—I’m very sorry, I don’t want it to turn into something like that.”

 

“Shouldn’t your agent be the one to take care of this?” the man chuckled, “Because I leave it to mine. None of us knew it’d turn out like that.” He couldn’t help but to feel pity for her.

 

“That’s exactly the problem.” Pilar sighed, “You see…my agent seems to think this could be a good publicity stunt for me. Don’t take me wrong, I _do_ like you, but it feels wrong.”

 

“Damn sure it is.” Sergio took a deep breath, “Look. Do me a favor and tell them the truth?”

 

Pilar paused for a moment, “Alright. I will…try.” She sighed, “Whoever you’re dating this time, you’re serious about it, aren’t you?”

 

“I am.”

 

*

 

After dinner, Mesut quickly went upstairs. Sami mentioned the thing he saw on the tabloid about Sergio during dinner and apparently he did not buy it and Lena eyed him worriedly. The urge to glare at his cousin and confront him for showing such trust to Sergio while Mesut was in doubt with him made him feel annoyed beyond belief. He felt like no one supported him in the house, even Lena who usually does tried to talk him out of his current thought about his own boyfriend. It was stupid. Can’t anyone see that it was not the crappy headline that matters? The fact that Sergio actually spared his time to be with her bugged him more than the headline and the crappy captions Sami translated on the dining table. If he could be with her, why he couldn’t see him?

 

He rolled his head on the pillow as his phone went off and took a look at it. As expected, a text message.

 

_From: Sergio_

_Mes, I need to talk._

 

The boy snorted. Was it mandatory for any of them to cause a trouble first to get his undivided attention so that he’d come around? He wanted trouble? He’d give him trouble. He neglected the phone and set it off for the night. He did not care if he appeared to be childish, he did not care if he appeared selfish, he knew that he did not want to talk or to hear anything from his boyfriend at the moment. He needed distractions. Anything.

 

*

 

“Damn it.” Sergio groaned as he couldn’t reach Mesut for the umpteenth call in the last two hours. He sent him like tons of texts and called him nonstop ever since the last text he sent.

 

He was growing restless, he didn’t really care what those cheap tabloids wrote about him, but a picture explains way better. They were still new in this, if someone asked him what Mesut’s favorite color is, he would not be able to answer that, but he was willing to learn about the boy so, very much. This was one of the things he less expected, or maybe he was expecting it a little. Back then, he wouldn’t want to get himself involved little trivial things like this, he could easily let go anyone, but this time he was so damn willing to make everything right and clear. He had no idea why, he had his own doubts, he might had never voiced them out, but he had some but he would never admit it.

 

It wasn’t as if this relationship was a perfect one, he was aware of the troubles it might bring and the differences he and Mesut had, but he saw that his boyfriend tried. There was no way he wouldn’t give him his best shot at this, he could commit and he knew he could. It was funny how troubles seemed to come their way one after another, but he should stay calm. He walked towards the couch in his living room and sat down. He should stay calm. Maybe Mesut needed more time to get it over with. If he needed that, he did not mind. He would wait. If he could wait for his heart, he could totally wait for him to talk.

 

*

 

 


	16. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopie! Double-update!  
> Enjoy :D. (don't kill me pls)

Mesut woke up to soft knocks on his bedroom door and Lena’s voice calling him for breakfast. He rolled to one side a little, stretching his limbs as he yawned. Off-mindedly, he grabbed around for his phone and switched it on. He rubbed the sleepiness off his left eye and looked at the list of the missed calls and texts he got from his boyfriend alone. The texts were ranging from soft pleas to frustrated ones, he felt a little sorry, but then his ego slammed it back down by telling him that it did Sergio well. He still wasn’t sure whether to respond to them, to allow him to explain, but then one particular text caught his eyes. It was from Karim.

 

From: Karim

Hi, Mes. Haven’t seen u around, wanna meet up?

 

He contemplated on how he should respond to it; the offer was quite interesting for he knew that Karim does know how to have fun (even though it was way too much, but maybe he could lower it a notch this time) and he was thinking…a little payback might serve Sergio good. There was a tinge of it, but he quickly erased it from his head. What was he doing? It was beyond childish. Yet, the offer stood still and he got nothing to do all day. Karim had shown that he wasn’t as harmless as he appeared to be, it bugged him a little. It wasn’t a kiss one could easily forget, so if they were not to get drunk today, it was unlikely for the kiss to repeat, right?

 

*

 

“I thought you were ignoring me.” Karim chuckled as they climbed the stairs of the old-ish building. Mesut had agreed to meet up at the usual place, but this time the French guy really did lower his sense of having fun by taking him to his apartment. It was an old dormitory building not too far from his campus, not too shabby though; Mesut kind of liked the atmosphere.

 

“Went to bed early.” The boy uttered and followed the taller one into the hall when they reached the fourth floor.

 

“Great, coz’ I had the idea of you getting busy with your boyfriend.” Karim grinned playfully as they stopped in front of a door.

 

The younger man snorted at that and waited for his friend to unlock the door, “As if that’d ever happen.”

 

Karim opened the door and threw him a questioning glance, “What, you guys broke up or something?” he went in and beckoned the German to follow him.

 

“Not exactly.” He walked into the small foyer and right into the studio-type apartment.

 

Surprisingly it wasn’t a mess like he expected; there was a desk with a laptop lying on it, a TV, a rack of books, one huge window, and one bed. He looked around at the CD collections Karim had stacked on the floor, some magazines on the coffee table next to the desk, the rug in the middle of the room with a black guitar on it and a few papers scattered on the floor. Even so, it was way too tidy for a boy’s room, it actually put him in shame. Karim was hanging his jacket on a hanger when Mesut huddled to the guitar and the papers around it, he saw some notes and French written on it.

 

“Your song?”

 

“I hope.” The French walked toward the fridge next to a mini-bar made of a few half-empty bottles. “You want anything?”

 

“No, thanks.” He looked around and just realized that he found nowhere to sit properly, so he waited as Karim grabbed a can of cola from the fridge.

 

“So, ‘not really’.” Karim repeated what he said as he plopped down on his bed and patted the empty space next to him. “Care to talk about it?”

 

The younger man sighed and unzipped his jacket as he took a few strides to the other boy’s bed and sat down next to him. The wall next to the bed was full of posters of musicians and paintings on papers, he took time looking at them before he turned to his awaiting friend who just downed his drink. “Let’s not talk about it. It’s not important.” He forced a smile and took his jacket off.

 

Karim winced and handed him the coke, “I think I know why,” Mesut eyed him as he took the can and took a gulp, “Saw him on TV last night I think. On a show my girlfriend likes to watch. He’s quite famous, isn’t he?”

 

“Kinda’.” Mesut handed him the coke back. “Look, can we not talk about him?”

 

“Alright.” The French shrugged and put the can on the bedside table. “It’s a shame though. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He grinned at Mesut who smiled shyly back.

 

“Quit it,” he elbowed the man’s side a little; “I really don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, nice room you got here.”

 

“Cleaned it up when you replied my text.” Karim winked, “I say you’re at least impressed.”

 

“Not as shitty as mine, I’ll give you that.” Mesut stuck out his tongue.

 

*

 

“He ignored me.”

 

Lena sighed as she returned from the kitchen with tea and homemade cookies for Sergio in the dining room. The matador came only a few hours after Mesut left, she couldn’t really do anything about it and it appeared that he decided it was a good idea to trash in for a while. She poured him some tea as she tried to talk to him. “Just like a boy would.” She put in two sugar to cheer him up and placed the cup in front of him, “It’s been too many surprises for him lately, okay? He needs to slow down a little bit.”

 

“It’s not as if I asked him to marry me and bear my babies, Len.” The Spaniard threw her a look, but quickly averted his eyes as Lena scowled at him.

 

“Making it to the front page with a lady friend of yours on the flashiest cheap magazines sure makes him think far from that.” She took a seat on an empty chair and poured some tea for herself; she really couldn’t cut any of these dense two some slacks, but it was easier to go hard on Sergio at the moment.

 

“What can I do, really?” the matador whined, “This is the life I’m living in. Exposures, interventions, I live off being exposed more than slaying bulls! Now I think that bulls are not all that scary.” He sipped his tea with a small pout.

 

“I understand that very well, mister, but the boy you’re dating isn’t so.” The German girl sighed as she added a splash of milk into her cup. “He’s only a boy, you’re a fool if you think it’d be an easy game for you.” He took a sip of her cup and threw him another dagger, “Or if you think it’s a game at all.”

 

“Lena, you know me. You know me better than Sami is willing to admit, you know I’m serious about this.” It took him balling up his courage to glare at her even though he faltered a bit when she put down her cup.

 

“Give him time, then.” She restrained her voice so it came out softly, “Give him all the time he needs and in the meantime, take care of this.”

 

“But what if-“

 

“Trust him, alright?” the blonde woman patiently spoke, “You love him, don’t you?” she had to hold back a grin at the rare flush upon her friend’s cheeks, “He is young, he will do something stupid, he needs it, okay? He needs to be able to convey his feelings, not by my help or yours. He’s confused, he’s upset, but he won’t hurt himself or you.” She smiled as she sipped her tea, “He’s far too naïve to ever think about payback, you know.”

 

Sergio stared at her, ignoring his cup for a moment, “I like to think about that option,” He muttered, “I really do.”

 

*

 

Maybe Karim tried to teach Mesut a grip or two on his guitar and showed him the kind of music he was into, but soon the laptop was left off to play random tracks he set up, very good slow and comforting ones. It could be the gentle wind from the window as well that made the room grew more and more comfortable, also the arm that sneaked around his waist as they started talking silently with their backs against the wall; it could be that. It could also be that little devil Mesut recognized from the other night with Karim that made him feel a little playful, a little too loose on his guard, a little too comfortable. Their voice was now barely above whisper that they were now past playful banter. It was real comfortable that he slowly reached for something to fiddle with and he got his friend’s hand that was conspicuously lying on his thigh and he heard Karim’s low rumble of laughter as he toyed with his fingers.

 

“What’re you doing?”

 

Mesut glanced at him and blinked, he kept on fiddling on the fingers. They were about the same familiar size, but something wasn’t quite right. “Uh…I don’t know?”

 

“It feels funny.” The French gently pulled his hand off and placed it back on the younger boy’s thigh. Mesut inaudibly sighed at the loss. “Anyway, you haven’t answered my question. Haven’t you been flirting with me too much?” he grinned and the German remembered why he needed something to occupy his hands with.

 

“You did most of it.” He chuckled, waving it off.

 

He could not help it; he liked the attention he was getting from Karim. He got a girlfriend anyway; even Mesut would not cross the boundaries because he knew well how the guilt would drag him down. Sergio would go batshit crazy if he were to know what Mesut had been up to…it was a little megalomaniac in a sense. He should be ashamed that he couldn’t yet commit to it, but Karim had been different. He was very blunt with his words, Mesut didn’t need to decipher anything, he did not need to think about anything, and he had all the time in the world for him. He started telling himself that just a little would be okay. It was still okay even after Karim kissed him the other night, wasn’t it?

 

“But you like it.” the older boy tilted his head a little and Mesut shivered to feel his lips against his earlobe, blowing hot air. “The last time I checked, you craved for it so badly, didn’t you?”

 

Mesut shifted a little to look at him, “The last time…?”

 

“Don’t play silly now,” Karim giggled and pulled him closer, “I saw how pale you were when you saw me back at the café when you were with your man. Almost couldn’t hold it back either, your boyfriend did you good, didn’t he? Just how you squirmed around, you were so cute that night, would’ve done it if only your cuz didn’t show up.”

 

“Wait.” Mesut’s face contorted with shock and confusion, “Y-you remember…?”

 

“I remember quite well not to act stupid around my girl and your loverboy.” He wrapped his arm tighter around the slighter boy, “What’s the fun with it if you’re out of it anyway, right?” he leaned in closer, but Mesut put up his hand on his chest and pushed him a little.

 

“No, Karim…I don’t…” he was bewildered, “I…I thought you don’t…well, it changes everything-“

 

“What changes, man?” he turned his eyes back to Mesut, looking mildly annoyed, “I like you, I know you like me, isn’t it settled already?”

 

“Yeah, I like you, but this is…wrong.” The younger man felt the arm loosened around him, “I freaked out. I thought…if you knew…you would…I was…I was about to say sorry…” he chewed on his lower lip, “I was drunk, you were there, I-I might’ve used you because…I can’t…if it’s…if it’s not him-“

 

Karim burst out laughing in all of sudden and Mesut looked at him with a baffled look, “Mesut…mon dieu, are you trying to seduce me? Because it’s working.” He cackled, “I’m thinking more like a one-time thing…just for fun’s sake.” He sneaked his hand underneath Mesut’s tee and the boy gasped.

 

“W-what is wrong with you?!” the younger boy tried to push him off, his eyes wide with surprise.

 

“It’s not a big deal, right?” Karim’s grip was still on him; his eyes were dark—just like how they were at the night of the show. “Come on, just a little bit of fun? Don’t say you never thought of doing it with me.” He slid his hand under the younger one’s tee and dipped his fingers past his waistband.

 

Mesut jolted harshly at the foreign touch and squirmed some more, “Quit it, it’s not funny.” He glared at the older man, trying to push him away with his hands, but the man easily pushed him back against the bed. He made a small, choked noise as his head hit the mattress and turned a patronized look at the older man. “What the fuck, Karim?!”

 

“Ssh, it’s okay, Mes,” his voice was sickening as he seized both of Mesut’s wrists and held the up above his head, “I’ll make you feel good, my girl doesn’t need to know,” he leered as the younger man started kicking around, “Your guy doesn’t need to know.” He closed the gap between them and sealed Mesut’s lips with his.

 

The familiar feelings returned in Mesut, it was exactly like his kiss from before; quick, bold, hot, his hand wandering to places Mesut did not want it to be, but now that he was fully sober and aware of what was happening, his stomach churned. He closed his eyes and wept into the harsh kiss, he could feel his body started giving out but he kept ordering his legs to move, move, move. This could not be happening, not ever. He should’ve listened to Lena, he should’ve followed his guts, but no, a repulsive moment and he was there. He couldn’t even fit in the thought of how wrong what Karim was doing into his head for all he could think of was nononoIdontwantthis and how Sergio told him that he’d wait.

 

Sergio, no matter how he appeared to be, no matter how he used to be, but right now, at this very moment, he was waiting for Mesut. Mesut made him wait for too many things and it hurt how he should endure this to realize that he wanted, needed no one else. He regretted that this should happen, he regretted that he gave Sergio a cold shoulder, he regretted the dumb choices he made. In his head now he felt like shutting down, to get over it without having the memory of it if he were not to be able to avoid this. He hated how those weren’t Sergio’s lips on him, it wasn’t his tongue caressing his, those weren’t his hands touching him.

 

He gasped for air when Karim pulled away and tore his eyes off his face as he licked his own lips with that nauseating smirk on him. He snarled when he felt those wet lips went to his neck, tongue caressing his skin, teeth sunk, lips sucked, as the older man made his way lower to the juncture of his neck. Mesut started groaning, no matter how he ordered his body to keep fighting; his kicks and struggles were useless to fight the bigger man off. He yelped when Karim’s hand found its way to his crotch and he started to cry louder, it was a bunch of helpless pleas—anything to stop him, he didn’t even care what language he was using anymore-

 

“ _Que diable es-tu en train de faire_?!”

 

None of them could move fast enough to react to the voice and when Mesut opened his eyes, he realized that the weight that kept him down was gone and his wrists were released. He turned his eyes to a person—a guy who was towering Karim who was on the ground. He could not comprehend what just happened fast enough, but all that he knew was that he was free, yet he could not even move a finger. He could hear Karim’s low grunt as he rolled on the ground, holding on his stomach, and a pair of hands—gentler, but unfamiliar still, touching his arms and he shook his head. His lips were moving in attempt to say something, but nothing came out as he kept shaking his head. He could hear the man tried to spoke to him, his voice was low and soothing, but he could barely catch what he was saying.

 

“…it’s okay…you’re okay…get up…”

 

He found himself nodding when he was already on his feet with the help of the guy. The man brought him across the room, avoiding Karim on the floor, and out of the apartment.

 

*

 

It was a shock for Raphael when he thought he heard weird noises from Karim’s room only to find out what was going on. He still couldn’t believe what he saw that he stood stunned for a couple of seconds before he took an action—he had no options, really, because whoever his friend was pinning against the bed clearly did not approve what was going on. Karim was more experienced in taking down people; he had been in brawls before. Raphael wasn’t, but before he knew what he was doing, his friend was already rolling on the floor, groaning in pain.

 

When he got the other guy—Mesut—out of the room, he started to feel the dull throb on his fingers and knuckles. He did not take his friend ‘out’, but at least he bought some time to get Mesut out of the room. It wasn’t easy to get the guy to his room one floor below, he was practically limping and spacing out—Raphael couldn’t really blame him. He sat the German on his bed and got him a cup of water and some ice for his hand. He tried to talk to the shorter man, to get any reaction from him, but he gave nothing more than a nod or a shake. His eyes were blank even as he sipped the water, but it seemed that the damage wasn’t worse than he thought. At least he came at the right moment; the guy’s fly was undone, his pants were riding low, but that was all. He took his time waiting while wishing that Karim would be far too ashamed to see anyone after he found out so there would be no problem anytime near.

 

Sighing, Raphael once again tried to approach the German, “Mesut, man, you alright?” he had been asking that for a few times now, he was glad that he got nods for that one, but the last thing that he could think of to get him to talk was to annoy the hell out of him so that he’d say something. He blinked as Mesut’s eyes slowly focused on him and his breath evened.

 

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” The German’s voice was timid.

 

“Do you want more water or anything else?” he curiously watched as Mesut’s eyes wandered about the room before they slowly turned to him again.

 

“No.” he muttered and looked down to his lap where his right hand cradled his left.

 

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

 

“Just…my hands,” the shorter boy answered, “they’re numb.”

 

“Do you…do you wanna’ go home now? Or you wanna’ lay down a little bit?”

 

“It’s okay,” he turned his eyes back to Raphael and paused for a second, “…Rafa.” He sounded more like he was surprised than just addressing him. “I…I’m gonna’ sit here…for a moment, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Take your time, man.” He grabbed the stool in front of his desk and sat down on it, “You can…you can talk if you want to.”

 

Mesut let his eyes wandered in the room again, back to his hands, then he darted them back to his companion, “How did…you…”

 

“I was going to my friend’s, heard noises, found you.” He explained the best he could in his current state, but he tried again, “Can you tell me what happened?”

 

The slighter boy looked back down at his hands, watching his fingers move accordingly, “We chatted…it grew comfy…a-and he push…he p-pushed me down.” He looked up again. “S-said no…but he…”

 

“I understand.” Raphael sympathetically said, the boy looked like he could use a break. “Did he…do anything else…?”

 

“No, he just…oh.” The German suddenly remembered and checked on his pants hastily, but he was all set. He threw a look at the taller man.

 

“Did that for you, just…seemed right to do.”

 

“Oh. Thanks.” He muttered and the healthy flush returned to his cheeks.

 

Raphael scratched the back of his head, “Look, I will tell no one and I’ll make sure he…he won’t lay his hands on you again.” He chewed on his lip for a moment.

 

Mesut wouldn’t want to think about it right now and shook his head as he tried to get up slowly from the bed. Now all he could think was Sergio and how bad he wanted to be with him right now, to say whatever he had left unsaid, to let him see through him fully. To think that there was a possibility that wouldn’t be able to get out from what he just experienced, he felt like the time was running thin and he needed to see his boyfriend soon.

 

“W-where are you going?”

 

“Home…”

 

“I’ll take you home.” Raphael got up from his seat, “No bargains, man, that’s the least I can do.”

 

*

 

“The hell is he doing here?”

 

 “Hi, Sami, I’m doing great, thank you. How are you doing?” Sergio sarcastically beamed on his couch.

 

“The press got all over his place,” Lena joined them in the living room in her apron and kissed her husband on his cheek, “you want anything, Schatzi?” she asked as she took the older man’s coat and folded it gently on her arm.

 

“Some water would be great, liebling.” Sami smiled at her before he moved for the couch Sergio occupied. Sergio scooted over a little and the German took a seat with a sigh, “So, you and Pilar are going to Bahama next week.”

 

The Spaniard rolled his eyes, “Please, you don’t buy that crap.”

 

“It’s funny though.” The dark-haired man shrugged, “Chatted with Rene at my office. Poor guy got his ass on fire.”

 

“He’ll live.” Sergio pursed his lips. “About this thing going on at my place, mind if I crash in for one night?” it wasn’t a lie, he could find another place to crash in, but it was somehow easier to get to talk with Mesut this way, so he put up his best puppy-eyes look. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch and I won’t eat plenty.”

 

Sami raised one of his eyebrows and gave him a lopsided smile, “I don’t see why not.” He chuckled as Lena returned with a glass of water and gave it to him, “By the way, Mesut isn’t in?”

 

“He went out after lunch. Maybe he’ll be back before dinner.” She replied as she waltzed back out of the living room.

 

“Seriously, that kid,” Sami shook his head and chugged down his drink, “a few weeks here and he got some guy all over him.”

 

Sergio almost choked at that, “Some…guy, eh?”

 

“Yeah.” The dark haired man grabbed the remote control and changed the channel, “Someone he met somewhere in town. A French guy called Karim. Got him all busy and stuff, maybe I should tell him to knock it off a notch or something.”

 

“He’s a boy, he got needs, man.” The Spaniard chuckled nervously.

 

“It’s still too early.”

 

“You got a point.” Sergio nodded with a small wince.

 

The front door creaked and slammed close, followed by a familiar voice speaking in German. Sergio turned his eyes at the aisle expectantly as he heard Lena answered the call, and then Mesut walked towards the kitchen with a glance into the living room while talking in quick German until he noticed the presence of the Spaniard and paused for a moment. Sergio gave him a small smile and he quickly skipped towards the kitchen as fast as he could. It made the Spaniard felt like shrinking real bad.

 

*

 

Mesut did not expect to see Sergio this soon, not after he ignored him all day, not after what happened to him. He thought it was good that no one met Raphael for less drama, except maybe Lena who noticed how disheveled he looked and asked him what happened like his mother did when he came home from school with blood running out from his nose. After he showered, he quickly changed and locked himself in his room. He checked his phone and he saw everything from Sergio, not even one text coming from Karim. Maybe the guy wasn’t sorry after all, that was all he needed to delete his number and his texts. He still could not believe he associated himself with someone like that. He sent a text to Raphael to say thanks (“in case you want to talk about it”) and he lied some more on his bed.

 

He knew that with Sergio staying here, the guy would want to talk; he wouldn’t be able to avoid it this time. He had been yearning for him, harder than he ever thought he would be able to, but then he found himself chickened out a little on his way there. When he saw him today, he felt everything coursed through him all at once; reliefangryhappinessguiltneed, but what made him avoiding him just then was the way the heat flickered on his cheeks so quickly and how loud his heart started beating. He rushed off as that certain one word came up as the only word he could use to describe what he was feeling about this man and it felt almost unreal.

 

Lena called down for dinner when it was nearing seven and he lazily got up from his bed to walk downstairs. Apparently, Sergio and Sami were cackling over something on the dining table and he awkwardly pulled on an empty chair as they stopped their conversation to take a look at him. It was going to be so hard to act natural with everything now.

 

“Hey, Mes.” Sami grinned, “We were just talking about you.”

 

The boy turned his look at Sergio who had this smile on his face, gentle yet playful enough to feign a friendly gesture, “Hey, kiddo’.” He hated it when Sergio calls him that.

 

“Hey.” He muttered rather silently and sat down with a sigh. He stretched his neck from side to side; it hurt a little bit after the thing. He glanced at his boyfriend and found him staring at him weirdly.

 

“You see what I’m talking about?” Sami suddenly nudged the blonde haired Spaniard, earning himself a curious look from Mesut.

 

“…yeah.” Sergio sounded rather slow and his eyes were locked still on Mesut. If the younger German wasn’t so keen on watching how his expression changed, he wouldn’t have picked it up, but there was something weird about his boyfriend’s restrained little scowl.

 

“What?” the youngest of the three demanded at the right time when Lena came into the dining room with a bowl of soup and as she put the bowl down, she glanced at Mesut.

 

“Oh!” the blonde girl exclaimed.

 

“What?” Mesut turned his eyes to her, “What are you guys on about?”

 

“Better slow down with your guy whoever he is, Mes,” Sami chuckled, “Or at least get the hickeys in places we can’t spot.”

 

The boy stared at him wide-eyed and quickly dashed towards the mirror hanging in the foyer to take a look himself; he found two hickeys along the side of his neck and shrieked. Sami sniggered while Lena chose that it was exactly the right time to fetch the rest of the foods and Sergio…well, ‘murderous’ would be an understatement to describe how he looked right now.

 

*


	17. Don't Get Too High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there's any way to mend everything, this might be the only way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I wasn't sure to post this chapter the way this is written, but the hell with it, I like it this way, so here it is. Also, there's a little something too. Yay the rating just went up a notch.
> 
> Enjoy, love! :*

He couldn’t believe he saw them at first, but he did. Two blotches of deep red on Mesut’s neck, on his _boyfriend_ ’s neck. He couldn’t believe he let anyone to get _that_ close to him, he couldn’t believe Mesut let anyone to do _that_ to him. He became silent for most of the dinner, chewing his food half-heartedly while eyeing the boy flushed a tone deeper and deeper as his cousin went on and on about it and warned him some more. He wasn’t even sure how to react; just a few minutes ago he was so sure nothing could really get in-between them now that he was there, but then Mesut just needed him to spot it.

 

A part of him was relieved when Sami hurried him to get into the living room to watch a football match when the dinner was over, he hadn’t yet to figure what to say to Mesut and the boy looked a little upset when he got up to leave the table. He could use something to get it off his head for the rest of the night, to cool his head a little so he could at least act cool. The match really did get his mind off it a little bit. If he had any choice, he’d rather ignore it and pretend that nothing happened. He said he would wait, he even promised himself that he would. It was a mistake when he went to beat the crap out of that guy he saw with Nando, he _knew_ it was a mistake, but his logic was being repressed once again by the thoughts of this…thing. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t know after all because now his knuckles started to itch for a real beating.

 

*

 

Mesut didn’t know how he missed that, he couldn’t believe he let Sergio saw that, and moreover, he couldn’t stop blaming himself for letting Karim leaving a mark—wait, no, the bastard should’ve known it wasn’t his place to leave one at the first place. He looked into the mirror in his room again and tilted up his head to take a look at them and raked his nails softly over the red spot. He had never had any of those before; he did not know how long it’d take until they disappear. Sighing, he walked back towards his bed, but he heard voices outside his bedroom. It was Lena and Sergio, and after a few moments later, he heard the bathroom door creaked open. He quickly skipped towards the door and took a look outside; no one was there and he was sure it was Sergio who just got into the bathroom.

 

Silently he sneaked out and snuck across the floor. He tried the bathroom door; it was unlocked. His heart raced and he took no more time to open it and slipped inside quickly; whatever would come, he didn’t really care. He wasn’t, at least until he closed the door behind his back to find Sergio standing before the basin, hair all mussed with a surprised look on his face Mesut saw from the reflection on the mirror. He could see his own face too, how surprised his own face looked as he realized he could see him—all of him, bare from the top of his head down to his toes. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat just went dry as his eyes traveled down the wide, strong shoulders, moving south over the blades, even lower to the crease of the dip he had on the other side on his hips, and further south…

 

“M-Mesut!” It startled him that he looked back up to his face in the mirror. “ _Joder_ , Mes, what-“ he sounded more surprised than he looked, but he knew better than to turn around in such state. He could feel his cheeks heating up regardless of what happened and he just covered his face with one hand, taking one deep, long breath before looking back at Mesut through the mirror again. He couldn’t deny how funny the look on his boyfriend’s face was; eyes were wide, jaw fell, and he was all red. He would’ve laughed if he hadn’t seen those hickeys on his neck again, “What are you doing?”

 

“I…I…” the German stuttered, he kept on trying to drive his eyes off the sleek muscles on one of the most attractive butt he had ever seen, not to mention the ones flexing as he moved, the ones on his chunky thighs, on his calves. “I-I’m sorry b-but…I…I haven’t talked…with y-you…”

 

The Spaniard sighed, “Can we do this later?”

 

“I know y-you’re mad at me…a-and I deserve that!” Mesut raised his voice a little, “I’m…I’m being an asshole to a-ask this, but…but hear me out? Please?”

 

“I will.” Sergio rolled his eyes at him through the mirror, “But I need to shower now, if you please.”

 

“Oh.” The younger one muttered, “Right. Okay. I’ll leave. N-now.” He nodded as he stole a glance at that butt again and squirmed uncomfortably, “C-come to m-my room…after…a-after Sami goes to b-bed…” he gulped and squeezed his eyes shut, “If…if you don’t, I will come to you, it’s okay-“

 

“Mesut.” The boy opened his eyes at the gentle voice and looked at him to find a faint amused smile on his face. “I will come to your room later, okay?”

 

Mesut licked his lips and nodded, “Okay. Alright. I’ll be…waiting.” He opened the door a little and peeked out through the crack. It was clear outside, and once he was sure, he stole another glance at the same butt and sneaked out as silently as he could with his heart beating faster than before and his blood running to a certain part of his body.

 

*

When Sami turned in, Sergio waited for a few minutes until everything went quiet and he silently sneaked to the stair. He knew it was crazy, if Sami were to find him in his cousin’s room, the guy would at least castrate him. He winced at the thought. He didn’t even understand why he complied to Mesut’s request; if there was anyone who should be that demanding, it was him. He paused as he reached the top of the stair. Lena turned most of the lights off and it was dim up there. He slowly walked towards Mesut’s door and tried it once; it was unlocked after all. He felt like he was back in highschool all over again, sneaking to his girlfriend’s bedroom where his dick would be at stake. He sneaked inside and silently closed the door. Mesut sat up from his lying position on the bed, his cheeks reddened.

 

“Hey.” He put down his phone on the pooling bedcover around him.

 

The older man glanced at him and gave him a small smile, standing in front of the door awkwardly in one of Sami’s old tee and a pair of gray boxers. Honestly, he had no idea what to do or even say, so he just stood there. The room was less messy than the last time he was there and the only light came from the lamp on the bedside table.

 

“In case Sami saw the light.” The boy muttered as if he could read his mind. He kicked the bedcover off to make some space and turned his eyes to the Spaniard, “Come sit?”

 

Sergio’s feet moved on their own towards the bed. The mattress sunk as he sat down on it and turned his eyes to the German, “So. What are we going to talk about?”

 

“Well,” Mesut pulled up his knees and hugged them to his chest, “First of all, I’m sorry that I ignored you-“

 

“I believe that’s not my top concern right now.” Sergio sarcastically chuckled, but it died down when he saw the boy’s face fell.

 

“I…” Mesut trailed off, uncertainty in his voice as he touched his own neck. “I’m not sure how to explain this…”

 

“I can always assume, you know?” he put his elbows on his knees and his hands in front of his eyes to them from lingering back to Mesut, it was harder when the German was looking at him with big, sorry puppy eyes. “It’s easy to assume things, whether it’s right or wrong, but I don’t want to be wrong about it and if you wish so too, if you still want this to…work out, at least try.” He sounded far too distant and cold it made Mesut felt worse.

 

“I haven’t been honest with you.” The German suddenly realized that it might not be a good start when he sensed his boyfriend tensed a little more, “Please don’t think about anything yet, please listen first?” he reached out to touch Sergio’s shoulder but he stopped mid-air. All he got was a sigh and a small nod. He pulled his hand back and took a grip on his pillow, “I…when I was out that night with Karim, I got a little drunk…” he looked down to his hands on the pillow on his lap, he didn’t need to see Sergio’s face to know that he just got more upset and it’d only be worse. “I know I shouldn’t have, but…but it felt easy for me. It was easier to hang out with him, he…we talked a lot, he’s free most of the time, it was just…it was fun.” He stole a glance at the older man, but Sergio just sat still.

 

“This is my fault. I admit that…that I might’ve realized…that he kinda’ likes me or something,” He gulped, “and maybe…I just like his attention, so…so I kinda’ feel…you know…when you’re busy…I just like…the attention he gave me.” He fiddled with his fingers and chewed his lips, it felt so wrong and now he knew how wrong it actually was now that he confessed it. “So when…after he drove me home that night…we were tipsy and we…we kissed.”

 

The Spaniard suddenly got up, much to the younger man’s surprise, and sauntered towards the window, his hands on his hips as he stood there for a moment to take a deep breath. He really did not want to hear that. Ever.

 

“However, it felt so, so _wrong_.” He looked at his boyfriend’s back worriedly, “Please don’t go? I-I might not worth your time, but _please_ , Sergio?” he really couldn’t bear hurting the older man, but if there was any way to fix this, he would try even though Sergio might not take him back or anything.

 

Sergio did not answer, but he stood as still as humanely possible.

 

“It felt wrong,” he mumbled, “I hate it. I thought he didn’t do it on purpose, I don’t want him like I want you.” He paused to take a deep breath, “I don’t like him like I like you.” He dropped his eyes to Sergio’s hand, suddenly craving to get a hold on it and fiddle with it like he used to. “But then I saw that thing about you and that girl.” He muttered, “I was ridiculously mad at you. I didn’t want to see you or hear anything from you, and…and I saw him today.” He flinched upon the realization that he had been unfair and terribly unwise of the decisions that he made, yet he couldn’t keep it no more. “We chatted, I got a little too comfortable around him… then…” he tried to gulp down the constricting weight in his throat, “…he told me he remembers the kiss…I was upset because he didn’t say anything, but then he…he tried-“ he choked a little.

 

The Spaniard turned around to look at him; his eyes were wide and in filled with fear. He did not actually expect that it would go there, ever, but he was unable to say anything.

 

Mesut shivered as he recounted the event in his head, “I tried to…push him…but I couldn’t…he…he pushed me back,” his throat was awfully painful so he pressed his eyes shut; he needed to let it out without breaking out, “…h-he kissed me…touched me…b-but I didn’t…I don’t want that…” he stammered.

 

Sergio balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palm as he did and his knuckles turned white. It was as if Mesut just pushed a button in him, a button that released his ability to plan the worst ways to hurt that son of a bitch who touched Mesut, to murder him in the slowest way possible, to torture him…but then he saw Mesut on the bed. His face was down, hidden under the shadow casted by the lamp as he tried to breathe and he was trembling. All he wanted to do was to come to him and comfort him, do anything to make it better, to fix it, but his anger kept him still and he stared.

 

Mesut took another deep breath. It was evident how upset and shocked he was; his eyes were glassy, face red, and his hands were trembling, but he was determined to fix this whatever it takes. “That…is how I got these.” He touched his neck, “I…didn’t realize that he left…these…” He glanced at his boyfriend, “But then Rafa came out of nowhere, he knocked Karim off and helped me.”

 

“He…” Mesut looked up to Sergio as the older man muttered, “that _puto_ …did he…”

 

“He would’ve if Rafa didn’t come.” The German chewed on his lip, “…no, it is my fault after all…isn’t it? I did make him think that I…” it was a hard thing to say, but he did feel that way.

 

“ _Joder_.” Sergio ran his hand on his face, he could not describe what he was feeling, he couldn’t even call it a close call. Never in his life he didn’t want something so bad that his body could abject. He took a step closer, trying to get a better look at the younger man, “A-are you…hurt…?”

 

“It’s okay, Sergio. It’s not about that at all, what I’m trying to-“

 

“He was going to fucking rape you and you said it’s okay?!” the blonde man almost shouted that Mesut jolted with surprise, “God damn it, Mesut…what the fuck?” he ran his hand into his hair and that was when Mesut’s eyes turned wide as he realized that Sergio’s eyes were glistening.

 

“Sergio…” the boy was stunned, “S-Sese…baby, I really am okay…he…he didn’t -“

 

“Fuck.” Sergio turned his back again and trembled. Both in fear and anger. He could really have lost it, Mesut could’ve been…

 

Mesut really couldn’t bear it anymore and got up from the bed. He approached his boyfriend and gently touched his shoulder. When he felt that he didn’t flinch, Mesut sneaked an arm around his hips and another one to hug the man from behind; gently pressing his body against his boyfriend’s trembling back and kissed his shoulder soothingly. “Baby, I’m not saying it’s okay because _it’s_ _okay_ …I just…I need to tell you that I _need_ to fix this. I…I want us together, I want to be with you, I…don’t want to be with anyone else.” He could feel his eyes became damp, but he pressed his face into Sergio’s broad back, breathing in his scent, _knowing_ that it was where he belongs. “I…I love you, Sese.”

 

Sergio blinked. Did he hear just right? He touched the arms around him, felt them loosened a bit and turned around slowly to see Mesut looking straight into his eyes with his eyes wet. He was smiling but the he looked like he was lost and scared.

 

“I…I love you.”

 

“Oh my god,” Sergio wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s waist and cupped his face, “Mesut…”

 

Mesut sobbed a little and wrapped his arms around Sergio’s neck, clinging to him as if he was clinging for his life. “I love you. I love you.” He murmured into his lover’s ear, sniffling, as the tears just wouldn’t stop. He needed to tell him this; he needed it so much that it overwhelmed him. Sergio gently caressed his hair.

 

“Come on, _amor_ ,” he whispered as he tried to get the boy to the bed, but he kept on clinging onto him while silently sobbing, so he put his hands under the boy’s thighs and let him wrap his legs around his middle. He carried him to the bed and sat down with his hand still caressing Mesut’s soft hair, the boy was refusing to let him go. He had his arms around Sergio locked and his legs tight.

 

“I…I was s-scared…” Mesut hiccupped, “W-when he did t-that…I t-thought of you…w-waiting…while he…”

 

“Ssh, ssh…” Sergio rubbed his back gently and kissed his hair. If he could choose, he would rather not hear that, but Mesut needed to get it out, he knew that far.

 

“All I could think was…y-you…I’ve lied to you, I-I’ve made y-you wait…”

 

“Hey, now,” he whispered softly, gently delving his fingers into the smooth, pretty hair, “you did not make me do anything. I’m the one who told you to wait, didn’t I?”

 

“He could have-“ Mesut wheezed a little, “…he could’ve…”

 

“But he didn’t, _mi querido_ ,” Sergio kissed the top of his head and cupped his face to look at his face. He would’ve laughed if the boy didn’t look that pitiful; his eyes were red and swollen while he kept on trying to cease the sobbing and the runny nose. He was just a child, he knew it wouldn’t be much of a problem if he were not, but he was and Sergio was willing to take his chance. He leaned in and kissed those lips chastely, “and he never will.”

 

Mesut blinked as he focused on his boyfriend’s face, the man was now smiling and his eyes—his warm, deep bronze eyes were looking at him and that time he felt like nobody could touch him, nobody even would because Sergio would always be there and ready for him. He touched the Spaniard’s cheek, feeling the stubbles under his touch as he ran his fingers down to the corner of his lips, those lush lips he knew so well, and touched them gently. Even Sergio could sense that there was no shyness or restraints in the act; it was as if Mesut was savoring the moment, trying to carve the shape of his lips in his memory, never to forget them, ever.

 

He then moved closer and pursued those lips with his own, sealing the older man’s with his. Now it felt familiar, he thought, it was comfortable and he didn’t need to wait for it to be. He pulled Sergio closer and pried his lover’s lips open, the older man sighed and welcomed him inside; letting him to caress him, feel him. Mesut took his time, savoring the taste of the blonde man he had missed so much, the taste only he could have. He pulled him down and felt his head landing on the pillow, his lover’s body in-between his thighs while he tried not to crush him, but then Sergio melted into the kiss. His weight was comfortably warm on him, deliciously comforting as they were pressed against one another. Sergio started kissing him back and it felt like how it should be. The fingers in his hair, the hand on his cheek, the warm breath against his nose, the comforting fragrance of his cologne, the muskiness of his scent…

 

Sergio pulled away only to catch a breath before he made a trail of small, soft kisses from the corner of Mesut’s lips and down to his chin, the German sighed with his eyes shut and delved his own fingers into the soft strands of his lover’s hair. It was hard to keep his eyes open, harder not to grab a fistful of his hair as he arched his body at the ministration on his neck; soft kisses kept trailing down until Sergio had to stop at the collar of his tee. He pulled back a little, and as if it was his cue, Mesut initiatively pulled his tee over his head and let it pool around his arms as Sergio’s lips were back capturing his. He let out a small moan and did not hold back, he did not want to hold back anymore. The older man broke the kiss and went back running his tongue down the slender neck, Mesut just had to neglect his tee and pulled him closer as if it was possible.

 

He gasped when he felt hot, humid suction around his collarbone and lower, squirming as the older man dragged his teeth softly on the milky skin now flushed. Sergio got his hand on the boy’s heaving chest, caressing the expanse, paying special attention to one of his dark nubs on his chest, making him yelp in surprise. The Spaniard stole a glance at his younger lover’s rosy cheeks, glistening lips, and eyes heavily hooded with eyelashes. He looked so beautiful and vulnerable all at the same time, he was no longer crying now he was making those soft, small noises he hadn’t been restraining. Sergio kissed the boy’s chest, licking his way to the other nipple and flicked his tongue on it, earning a moan in its wake. He wished he could keep on making him feel good like this, learning what would make him cry in pleasure, what would hit the jackpot, but it was not a game. He felt Mesut’s fingers on his neck and he looked at him again.

 

“Are we…” the German’s voice was a little raspy, “a-are we…having sex…?”

 

He could not help but to smile at the innocence in the simple question and kissed his chest again, “No.” he trailed southward, kissing every inch of the skin, tasting the faint salt on the soft expanse of his belly before he dipped his tongue into the boy’s bellybutton. He smelt softly like honey and tasted even better, Sergio had no idea where did that come from yet he knew he wasn’t deluded.

 

Mesut arched his body at that, mewling at the new sensation that went straight to his burning groin. He gasped and tried to catch his breath, holding on his boyfriend’s head loosely as he could no longer deal with the ministration. It could be dangerous if they were not to have sex, at least for him. He could feel his dick hard in his boxers, straining from the wonders his lover had done. If Sergio were to stop, he should’ve stopped by now, but then a hand sneaked to his crotch and fondled him. He cried out his lover’s name at that, his head started spinning at the thought of Sergio’s hand on him, touching him more intimately than he had ever did. His touch was, however, gentle and careful.

 

As Sergio moved to the lower part of his body, Mesut took the chance to open his eyes and looked at him kneeling in-between his thighs, his hands were caressing his thighs soothingly. “…so…” he mumbled, “…are we…gonna’ stop now…?”

 

Sergio returned his gaze with a smile, “No.” The German was puzzled, but then he felt Sergio tugged his boxers down and he threw him another questioning look. “Lift it up a bit…that’s right…”

 

The younger man did as he was told and let his lover to pull his pants down to his knees, moving one of his own out of the way. Mesut looked up at the ceiling, his breath was quick and he looked down at his lover. Even his earlobes turned red as he found that Sergio was staring at him, his naked and fully hard arousal. He pressed his eyes shut to ignore the fact that the older man was looking at him, _staring_ at his bare, naked self with his chocolate eyes warm and burning him with the heat he had never knew of.

 

Of course, Sergio couldn’t help staring; he knew he would be before anything. He knew he had been trying to avoid what was below the belt, but it just went this way and now he couldn’t stop staring. Mesut was prettier than he had ever realized; he did not cover up, he did not flinch, he was sprawled there, bare and open for him. He was not afraid of Sergio; he was welcoming him in the subtlest way. He looked wonderful, he cock was throbbing in his own pants, but the sight was more than enough to take his mind off it. The clean shaft was throbbing like his; the tip was deep red and leaking with pearlescent drops. He was trembling with it, with the need to burst, that was why he was gripping on the comforter so hard that his knuckles turned white. The Spaniard just had to tear his gaze and looked into Mesut’s deep, dark eyes for a moment.

 

“You’re gorgeous.” He muttered, “You always are.”

 

Mesut did not know how to respond to that. Sergio settled himself before his cock and carefully wrapped his warm hand around him. He squirmed at the touch, but he wanted to see, he wanted to watch no matter how hard it was. The hand started to move on him, up and down, languidly, making it harder to keep on watching and he finally gave out and called out for his lover’s name. Sergio moved closer and licked the leaking tip, closing his eyes at the strong taste of Mesut’s. He lowered his hand, circling his fingers around the bottom as he took him in slowly from the crown, sucking gently on him. The German put a hand behind his boyfriend’s head once again while the other one was pulling on the cover.

 

“S-Sergio…” he stammered as the hot, wet cavern enveloped him fully, the tongue swirling around him and on that special place below the shaft, “…hnn… _Gott_ …Sese…”

 

The hand behind his head urged him and he hollowed his cheeks as he pulled up to the tip, his thumb messaging the sacs and Mesut could no longer hold back. His hips started moving in need as he chanted his lover’s name over and over again, throwing his head back as the older man took him back in and sucked at the same time, bobbing his head slowly. He wanted Mesut to feel this, to enjoy this. He pulled up again and released the shaft with a silent ‘pop’ before he quickly ran his tongue on him, tasting the sensitive skin thoroughly, sucking him back in and bobbed his head faster. The German delved his fingers in his lover’s thick hair, keening at the sensation, calling out for him desperately. The warmth he was feeling in the pit of his stomach started to stir him; he would not be able to keep this any longer. It felt so good that he couldn’t be care less at what he had experienced, how close he was to losing his boyfriend, how close he was to losing what he wanted to keep for the older man…

 

“Ah…Sese…S-Se…”

 

He tried not to, but his fingers gripped a fistful of blonde hair as he bucked into Sergio’s hot mouth and exploded deep in the older man’s throat, bursting like he had never before. He made a long silent moan as he was shut down for a few moments. The orgasm hit him almost like a train; it took him longer to get his composure back, and as he tried to even his breath, he realized that he was in his room, on his bed, stark naked, with Sergio lolling on his limp cock, cleaning him thoroughly as he tried not to miss a drop. He didn’t see what just happened, he missed it, but he could still see Sergio down there, giving his spent member one last kiss before he pulled his boxers back on and grinned up to him. There was a slight trace of come in the corner of his mouth. He crawled over Mesut and kissed his lips chastely, smiling at the look on his face.

 

The boy could faintly taste himself on him and he flushed hard at that, “…y…you…”

 

“Was it good?”

 

Mesut gave him a look as if he was crazy and he chuckled softly. “How…how about you…?” out of breath, he asked.

 

“It’s okay…” Sergio softly replied as he slipped the boy’s loose tee back onto him, patting his tummy gently. Slowly he retreated from his younger lover.

 

“W-wait,” he frowned and reached out for the Spaniard’s arm, “where are you going…?”

 

“Ssh,” the older man whispered, “You’ve been quite loud. If Sami found me here, I’m doomed.” He pulled the bedcover over the boy and patted him on the head, “We can’t count it as sex, right?” he grinned teasingly, knowing how it’d annoy the boy who could barely keep his eyes open at this point.

 

“You jerk…” Mesut sleepily mumbled, “but I love you…”

 

“I love you too, baby.” He kissed the top of his head gently, “Sweet dreams.”

 

*

 

In the morning, Sami walked down the stair and towards the dining room as usual. As he climbed down the stair, he could already smell the coffee Lena had prepared and smiled happily at how lucky he felt to have such an unrealistically perfect life. It would be another great day with a smile on his wife’s face and her wonderful cooking, maybe he could get some alone time with her if Mesut would be out today. He wouldn’t even mind if Sergio were to take Mesut out somewhere, at least he knew Mesut would be safe enough around him since he wouldn’t dare to try anything. As expected, he found Sergio already sitting on the dining table, already in his yesterday’s suit with his hair neat as it usually was.

 

“Going somewhere?” he asked the Spaniard as he dragged a chair to sit on.

 

“Yeah.” Sergio smiled at him faintly as he sipped on his own coffee. Lena came from the kitchen with waffles and eggs, kissing Sami on her way before she returned to the kitchen.

 

“What’s the hurry?” the dark-haired man yawned a little and took a sip on his coffee, “Why don’t you stay until dinner or something?”

 

Solemnly Sergio stared at him; “If you let me.” he smiled.

 

Sami gave him a weird look, “What the hell are you saying?” he burst out laughing, “You’re acting damn weird, you know you’re always welcome here, don’t you?”

 

“Even if I’m going out with Mesut?”

 

The dark haired man turned a look at him and fell silent for a few moment before he broke into a cautious smile, “…that is a tasteless joke.”

 

“I am and I’m in love with him.”

 

He stared blankly at the table before he turned his eyes back to his friend—his best friend. He knew it was a dangerous ground he was treading. Not only dangerous, he might lose a very good friend, the best one, the man he owed his life to. He might not be able to get through breakfast, but he needed Sami to know. The silence was mortifying, but he knew better than to say more and waited.

 

*


	18. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as the title said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turned out that if you're on a writer's block, all you have to do is to push yourself to write. The muses would follow. 8D
> 
> THANK YOU MY BB MAG FOR THE SPANISH :* :* :* and as I told u, CHEESY.
> 
> I'm sorry for the goddamn long delay, I've been really busy beyond believe and there was that godforsaken writer's block as well. I think we're coming to an end soon! :B
> 
> Enjoy~

When Mesut woke up, the first thing that he did was to roll on the bed to find the traces of Sergio on his bed from last night and made a small smile as he found the faint taste of him in his mouth and the faint smell of his cologne on his bed. At least he knew it wasn’t a dream, he knew they did it, he knew that nothing could make him budge now. The sense of certainty was definitely relaxing; he had a feeling that nothing would go wrong. He checked on his phone and realized that he overslept. Quickly he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom, wishing that Sergio was still here.

 

Once he got into the bathroom, he grabbed his toothbrush and glanced at the mirror. He paused for a moment when he spotted the dark hickeys on the side of his neck, the one that Karim made, but then he noticed darker new ones on his collarbone and lower. He sighed at the memory of where his lover’s lips had been on him. He tugged on his collar to find bigger ones on his chest and even lower. He blushed; it was like a reminder. It was as if those marks Sergio made were to remind him that no matter what he experienced, the ones he made would always be there. At least he knew the older man would never let them fade.

 

After he was done brushing his teeth, he went back to his room to get a cardigan before he went down. He had been thinking that there was something weird, but he couldn’t really place his finger on it until he realized that there was no sound from the kitchen. Lena should’ve been working back there, cooking for lunch, but he could not find her in there. He tried the living room and no one was there. He frowned a little and went towards the front door to find it unlocked. Lena would not leave the house unlocked no matter what; at least she’d leave a message. He went back to the kitchen and checked the back yard. He sighed in relief to find Lena sitting on the bench installed outside.

 

“Hey, Len, I thought there was a zombie apocalypse when I was asleep or something…” he walked towards her but then he frowned a little once he caught a glimpse of her face, “…Len? Something’s wrong?”

 

“Hey,” Lena looked up at him, an uneasy smile replacing her usual beam. Even her eyes looked rather dim. “ _Schatzi_ , come here.”

 

Mesut did and sat next to her, eyeing her worriedly, “You okay? Anything happened?”

 

*

 

Sergio stood before the large mirror on his dressing table to examine the dark bruise right below his left eye. He felt a little bad that he couldn’t wait any longer for a more proper moment to break it to his own best friend, but it really could not wait. Personally, it had been bugging him more than anything since he realized how words became inadequate when it comes to his feelings for Mesut. He could say that nothing really matters when he revealed it, it did not even matter if Mesut did not feel the same at first, and he realized later that what he did was utterly confusing for a kid like him. Sometimes he thought maybe he should slow down for the younger man to cope, to give him more space to breathe, but when he looked into those chocolate doe eyes, he shivered, all he could think about was _mineminemine_.

 

However, he was not sure that Mesut would understand; he might even freak if he knew what he was actually thinking. Last night was not something that he planned—of course he _wanted_ that, but his consideration and logic wouldn’t have let him do that to someone so precious, but the last strand of restraint he got in him practically snapped when he heard those sweet, soft _I love you_ ’s coming out from that mouth he loved so, very much. At that point, he realized that there was no point in hiding it anymore. If this was going to work, they could not hide anymore. Not after what Mesut just went through. Probably the timing was not exactly proper, but it felt just right. Even when Sami refused to listen to him, when he kept on trying to get to him, when Sami was about to leave the table with an unreadable expression he had never seen before, when Lena came into the dining room to ask what was going on, when Sergio grabbed Sami’s arm, when Sami punched him in the eye. He still didn’t regret it.

 

Lena gasped; it was the first time she saw them in a real fight. To see her face shocked and her eyes filled with fear, Sergio felt an urge to hug her and to tell her that they used to fistfight before. He could actually say that Sami’s punches were way harder back then, but he couldn’t since it got him stunned as Sami did not even spare him a glance as he walked towards the front door, grabbing his keys, and left. That part might hurt even worse than the throbbing swell below his eye. He pressed a damp, cold towel against the swell and winced a little. Sami wasn’t a man who would fight using his fists, not unless it was with Sergio or for Lena, which was _always_ correlated back then. The punch was not for any of the two; it felt unfamiliar and distant. Sergio did _not_ like that. It was just to shrug him off, to push him away, he just did not want to hear or even know about that.

 

He sighed deeply. Lena looked like she was about to cry when he tried to explain and apologize and promise her that everything would be alright, the blonde girl only nodded solemnly and squeezed Sergio’s hand. He just had to apologize for ruining the day, for startling her, for making her worried, and he tried to assure her that she should not think about it. She had been doing many things for him, he could not possibly ask for more than she already did. He left after he was sure Lena was okay with a promise that everything would be alright.

 

Now he was questioning himself _how_ to make it all right. Maybe he had been way too blind of what he could cause Lena and Sami, maybe he had been too self-centered. He had never dreamt of seeing that look on Lena’s face. Maybe this time he overdid it, but he was confident that it was the right thing to do…but how?

 

*

 

Mesut was clueless at where he could find his cousin. It was like their younger years all over again, once the older man did the same thing after a huge fight with his family regarding to Lena. He didn’t like this disappearing tendency of Sami’s, he was sure he could set this right for once only if he could find Sami. He finally gave up and dialed Sergio’s number to ask for help. Damn right he should help, he did not expect that the Spaniard would just drop the bomb like that yet. However, as weird as it was, he couldn’t help but to feel the need to relieve the strong urge to kiss the man. He should have done that earlier.

 

“Hey,”

 

Mesut blinked at Sergio’s voice, “Sese…you okay?”

 

“I’m okay,” he gave a soft chuckle.

 

Mesut chewed on his lip, “Where are you now?”

 

*

 

Sergio might’ve freaked out a bit when Mesut told him he was coming. Just a little bit. He would just pick him up wherever he was if he wasn’t so reluctant to see the German right now, but the boy gave him no choice as he hanged up. His heart jumped when he heard the bell rang and he hurriedly buzzed the door open for the doe-eyed German he saw standing in the lobby through the intercom. A few minutes later, Mesut barged into his apartment, panting a little bit as he set his eyes on Sergio. The older man tensed a little bit, waiting for him to explode or anything, but all that he got was, “Do you have any spare change?”

 

The Spaniard blinked, “What for…?”

 

“I…don’t have enough money for the cab…” the boy flushed faintly.

 

Both of them paused in an awkward silence before Sergio broke into laughter. He knew it had nothing to do with his problem right now, but he felt like to wrap his arms around the younger man and show him his gratitude for simply being himself no matter what happened. He took out some cash from his jeans, snickering as he gave it to the pouting German.

 

“We’ll get there, Ramos.” The boy managed only to look as threatening as a puppy as he snatched the money and dashed back out towards the lift only to make Sergio laugh louder.

 

Still grinning, Sergio walked towards the living room while shaking his head. It did make him feel better in the weirdest way. It wasn’t as if he was safe for now, but just to see him there effectively gave him relief. His chest didn’t feel as constricted as before. Maybe it was because he could finally look at Mesut just the way he was, no more mask, no more things he actually hides from him. He was just as open and as vulnerable as a baby, and he didn’t seem to mind to show himself like that around Sergio. It was a huge comfort and a burden all at the same time; maybe he hadn’t been quite honest. He did not realize it, but he still pull up the things he usually feels safe with around Mesut. However, unlike his selfish self, Mesut never really ask him for anything _that_ much. He sighed and glanced as he heard the front door closed and saw the boy heading in his direction with a worried look on his face.

 

“You should’ve asked me to pick you up instead.”

 

“You don’t sound like you want to go out or anything,” Mesut climbed onto his lap once he reached the sofa and turned his eyes to the older man’s face. There was a surprise on his face as he saw the swell below the man’s eye, “What happened to you…?” he cupped Sergio’s cheek and the man winced a little.

 

“Don’t mind me, really.”

 

“You really should take care of that,” the smaller man sighed, “I’m sorry. I really had no idea Sami would…react that way.” He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and buried his face into the crook of his neck. He couldn’t lie that Sergio’s smell alone already comforted him more than he thought it could. “He overreacted, Lena told me the whole thing…,” he muttered.

 

“Did she now?” Sergio chuckled and delved his fingers into Mesut’s thick hair, loving the way it felt around his fingers. “Maybe he didn’t overreact. Maybe I deserve that after all.”

 

Abruptly Mesut pulled away to look at his lover’s face, “Don’t say that.”

 

“He’s worried sick. I know he is,” Sergio tried to explain; “I’m exactly the guy parents would warn their kids about.”

 

“And so far you proved them wrong.”Mesut scowled, “What are you trying to say, Sergio? I really hate it when you talk like that.”

 

“Maybe I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

 

Mesut tensed upon hearing that, but he looked straight into his lover’s dark eyes, “What about?”

 

It was not getting any easier, but the Spaniard knew it just would not work without letting him know, “There was a guy before,” he began, “Three years ago. Around your age, maybe younger. We met at this bar and hooked up. I didn’t intend it to be serious, but I couldn’t help it.” It was unbearably awkward and uncomfortable to talk about this outside of his head; he did not even tell his brother so when the charge came in, it was quite a shock for Rene. “We were just fucking around, but then one day I realized it was more than that. At least on my behalf.” He tried to smile, however he didn’t find the memory fond at the first place.

 

“I told him that I want to get serious with him.” he took a deep breath and felt colder as Mesut became somewhat distant even though he was there, in his arms, sitting on his lap, “I told him I was in love with him.” He continued, “I told him I want to be with him, not just for sex or anything, and he fired back by saying that I’ve been way too attached to be fun to deal with or something, but I pursued him to the point that it was unhealthy.” He sighed, “One day I found him with another guy. I’ve never seen him so happy just by walking hand-in-hand with someone before, I just lost it. The guy nearly died and his family charged me.” he shifted a little in hope that he could hold Mesut closer, which he could but the boy was still way too tense and silent. “However, I didn’t tell this to anyone, even Sami or Rene. If there’s anything that leaked out, I don’t know and I don’t care…it’s just…I can’t handle it.” He chuckled bitterly, “I guess I’ve been a real asshole.”

 

“No.” Mesut glared at him, he could see anger in those eyes as he sought to look into his eyes again, “No. Stop. Stop doing that to yourself.”

 

“Mesut-“

 

“You can tell me all the details of your fuck-ups and I’ll still refuse to acknowledge any of them.” He pulled the collar of the Spaniard’s shirt, “I’ve failed you once, you didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong with me, whatever you did wrong before me, you’re no longer doing the same thing. You learnt from it and you make sure not to repeat it again.” He leaned close to kiss him lightly and closed his eyes just to feel Sergio’s warm mouth against his, “You were in love with him after all. I wouldn’t blame you now for not knowing what to do with it back then.” he mumbled against his lips and opened his eyes to find his lover staring at him, “It really is…a peculiar thing. It freaked me out, I won’t lie. I’m _this_ close to hit you.” He sighed, “However, this time you did try to get it right. You didn’t mess up. I did and I will try to make it right, just like you did.”

 

“Baby.”

 

“Just so you know,” the German added as he secured his hold around his boyfriend, “I won’t appreciate it as much if you said that only to get even.”

 

Chuckling, Sergio gently cupped his face and pulled him closer for a deeper kiss. It wasn’t the one that usually left them heated or the one they shared in a hurry or the soft one they shared absent-mindedly, it felt almost like a cure when Mesut reciprocates, his tongue moving along languidly against his in a pace that was so slow as if it was their first. Mesut slowly pulled away to catch his breath and wiped the wet of his lips.  “Thank you.”

 

There was a faint blush on his cheeks, “Now that I heard this, I’m so not buying the reason why we should wait until I turn seventeen just to have sex.”

 

Sergio blinked and pinched his cheek lightly, causing him to wince, “You’re an opportunistic little man, aren’t you?” he released him.

 

“It’s in my hormones.” Mesut stuck out his tongue.

 

The Spaniard grinned, “Unlike the popular beliefs, I’d like to wait until my lover mature up a bit. Sex with me could be life-changing.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“What a dirty mouth you have, Mesut.” Sergio faked a scolding tone with a grin. It felt so much nicer to be this way around him, something of him felt way lighter and seemed brighter. Maybe he did the right thing after all. “Uh, by the way, I need to set things straight with Sami…”

 

“That’s why I called.” Mesut suddenly remembered, “Lena can’t find him. You sure you’ve never talked about that to anyone _even_ when you’re drunk?”

 

“I _don’t_ get drunk, babe,” Sergio rolled his eyes, “But I know where he might be. I’ll get my stuffs, won’t be long.”

 

*

 

Mesut blinked as his boyfriend parked the car in a familiar place and glanced at him, “Here?” he stared at the building where they had their very first “date”. He was still a wee bit unsure whether to call it a date or not, Sergio was being way too cryptic during that time, but he liked the idea to call it a date. He just couldn’t believe that Sami would still come to this place after everything that had happened.

 

“Of course. How did you think he hooked up with Estefania at the first place?” Sergio leisurely unbuckled the seatbelt and turned to the boy, “Wait here. I’ll try to talk to him.”

 

The boy was unbuckling his seatbelt and rolled his eyes at that, “And then what? Getting his fist talking again?”

 

“No, Mes, stay here.” He touched the boy’s knee and he stayed still. Not without a pout. “I know you really want to, love, you can talk to him afterwards, yeah? I need to talk to him privately, about what I told you.”

 

Mesut turned his bewildered eyes at him, “Are you sure about that?”

 

“Nah,” The Spaniard grinned, “but that’s what best friends do. He has his right to be worried and if I’m to take something that makes him _that_ upset, I should be honest at least.”

 

The younger boy chewed his lower lip, but he nodded slowly. “Fifteen minutes and I’m going in.”

 

“What the hell.” Sergio laughed and leaned over the middle console to steal a kiss, “No.” he grinned at his boyfriend’s annoyed face and opened his side of the door.

 

*

 

As Sergio walked into the lounge, it was empty as expected. He wouldn’t even be so positive about Sami being here if it was not for the “open” sign at the front. It was still way too early to open the restaurant and he only knew a few names who could manage such a thing to this place; Sami was one of them. He wouldn’t say that Estefania was all that bad, she was actually great at providing comfort, it only made Sami looked even more desperate to come here at all, actually. As he reached the bar, he could see Estefania behind it, talking to the lost boy sitting on one of the stools. He walked towards them and caught the woman’s eyes as he did. Estefania left the bar and he caught her before she returned to the front office.

 

“If my boy gets in here, you keep him out, alright?”

 

“What am I, your security guard now?” Estefania huffed, but Sergio knew she would do as he asked and patted her on the shoulder before he took a seat on the stool next to Sami’s. “Hey.”

 

Sami didn’t even spare a glance and downed his brandy before he poured some more, “I thought I made my point clear.”

 

“No, you didn’t.” the bullfighter tried gently, “You did tell me not to, but I failed to understand why. Aren’t we good buddies? I thought you know me very well, if not better than myself.”

 

“I know you too damn well.” He sighed, “Maybe a little too well that I…just can’t allow this.”

 

Sergio noticed Sami’s gaze that kept on darting around, he refused to look at him and maybe, just maybe, he could guess him right this time. “Is it the thing with that kid in Fuenlabrada?”

 

It was a quick glance, but the Spaniard saw it. “You know, Rene often calls just to chat.” He muttered, “He told me about that. He was so shocked when you were charged, what hit him really hard was how could you get involved in…such a thing.” He glanced at his friend, “He was even more distressed that you didn’t even say anything against it. He called me, asked me to watch over you, I still don’t know why didn’t you say anything about it, but I believed it was a false accusation. At least until Mesut comes around.”

 

“Sami-“

 

“You don’t understand, Sergio. I care for that kid. Not even my own siblings would look at me for...marrying Lena, but Mesut doesn’t care. He was my rock before Lena happened, I’m not letting you ruining that kid.” His tone was flat and sharp on the edges. Sergio nodded. He understood that Sami’s life never was so easy, he began to understand as why this man was being overly protective and he could no longer call it overreacting. Sami must be confused. If he would rather cut him off, he wouldn’t even stay and listen to him, but then again, they were friends.

 

“Sam,” he tried again, softer yet more persistent this time, “I know you’re mad, you’re confused. Let me tell you something; everything that you think I did, I did it all,” he paused for a moment, “Only it was a different kid. He was cute, I need to get laid, it all happened.” He paused again and waited for any reaction from his friend. He got nothing but silence, and carried on, “I saw that kid constantly. I know how much of a jerk I was, but there was something about him I couldn’t get enough of. That’s when I realized I was in love with him.” Sami turned his eyes to him this time and he grinned a little, “The _puto_ is talking about love, weird, eh?” he chuckled darkly, telling this to someone else for the second time didn’t feel any better, “Frankly, I really did love him. I told him and he freaked out. I saw him with another kid, the kid that met my fists. The kid’s parents charged me, and that’s it.” He shifted his position on the stool, “I don’t tell you to make you feel at ease or anything; it was as horrible as it sounds. I’m prepared with whatever you’d think of me, but let me tell you this; I’m in love with Mesut right now. I’m not going to say that I know what I’m doing, but I know I’m trying to love him properly. At least, that’s what Mesut told me.”

 

Sami blinked once, “You told him all of this…?”

 

“A little too late, but yes, I did.” He nodded. “That’s all I have to say to you. I’ll just let you know that whether you like it or not, I’m not going to lose either of you.” He got up from his seat and patted his friend on the shoulder, “Gotta’ stop making Lena worry, man.” With that, he left his friend to his own thoughts.

 

As he walked out of the bar, he heard some sort of commotions from the front office and sighed as he found Estefania bickering with Mesut just as he expected. The boy was desperately trying to get to past her while trying to speak as slow as possible in English while using “ _por favor_ ” here and there. If only he knows how infuriatingly distressed Estefania could get with English-speaking people.

 

“ _No puede alguien decirle a este niño que hable mejor español?! Dios mío!_ ”

 

“Lady, _por favor_ , I need to-“

 

“ _Relajate_ , Estefania, _Yo me encargo de esto_.” Sergio touched the woman’s shoulder lightly and she had never been so relieved.

 

“ _Muchas gracias_. Now get him out of here or I’ll have to break something.”

 

Chuckling, the Spaniard wrapped an arm around his confused lover and led him out of the restaurant.

 

“W-wait, wait, are we leaving without Sami??” he asked.

 

“It’s cool, babe.” He led them to the car, “I’ll send you home.”

 

“But-“

 

“Listen,” he turned to Mesut and looked into his worried eyes. He caressed the boy’s sleek hair lovingly, “I told him what he needs to know and what I need to say. He has many things to think about, let’s give him some time. He’ll come around.”

 

*

 

Sergio left the house once he delivered Mesut inside and spoke to Lena. It didn’t help too much to soothe his boyfriend’s nerves, but his kiss did. A little. The thought of ruining his boyfriend and his cousin’s friendship got him nervous most of the time, he wanted to stay with Sergio so bad yet he knew he better tend to Lena who had been so upset and worried all day. Two hours after Sergio was gone, Sami came home and it was a huge relief to see him comforting Lena in the living room and apologized for upsetting her, saying that everything is taken care of. Lena finally could relax and she knew that Mesut would want to talk to his cousin as well, so she got up to prepare some dinner.

 

Mesut was sitting on the loveseat as he watched Sami slumping on the couch. When he was left alone with his cousin, he couldn’t find anything to say at all. At this point, he was relieved that he did not barge into him and Sergio back at the restaurant, but he knew he should say something. Anything.

 

“Say,” Sami started, “Are you in love with him?”

 

The boy blinked at his cousin and blushed hard. It was harder than anything else, but he nodded. He had never kept anything from Sami before; it felt so weird to unravel something he hid from his cousin this way. It felt like he was interrogating him even though his tone was not patronizing at all. “Yes,” he finally found his voice, “I…I love him. It might sounds stupid, but I really am, Sam.”

 

The older man only nodded and he was silent for a few seconds. He finally sighed, “I don’t know any better way to say this, you know I love you and I know damn well I love that moron you said you’re in love with.” He rubbed his temples slowly, “I don’t like that you both kept this away from me, you’ve never kept anything from me, Mes, but now you did. I don’t really appreciate that.” Mesut winced, but then his cousin added, “I guess you did grow up. Even if it’s a little.” He muttered, “And you’ll keep on growing up anyway.” The younger man watched his older cousin as he began to fiddle with his thumbs, “You’ll soon be a man of yourself, you can do as you like—I won’t always like it, but I can’t stop you, so-“

 

“Do you really mean it??” Mesut gasped as he felt the heavy burden he had been carrying suddenly disappeared in a flash, “Do you really mean that it’s okay that I go out with Sergio?”

 

“I said I can’t tell you what to do and don’t, it would’ve been wrong and you guys proved it already.” Sami couldn’t help but to break a small smile upon the extremely relieved look on his cousin’s face.

 

“But, then you won’t be mad that I’m going out with him? You’ll let me to go with him to Ibiza? You won’t even-“

 

“Slow down, there, buddy!” Sami chuckled, “I only said what I said and that’s all for now. One more thing though,” he added seriously, “No sex until your birthday.”

 

The boy blushed, “I swear I think he got it from you!”

 

“Don’t make me rethink about this again, young man.”

 

“Geez, I’m kidding, Sam.” He rolled his eyes but then he broke into a huge grin, “Thank you, though. I love you too, big bro.”

 

*


	19. the rise and the fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ibiza: a romantic escapade and _lots_ of sex.
> 
> At least he thought so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello........? *avoids flying daggers*
> 
> hi hi hi it's me again yes me and another chapter of this godforsaken ~~child~~ fic of mine heyyy hi how are you guys doing???? *another set of flying daggers*
> 
> I APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY! my laptop is stolen, someone broke into my flat last month and is stupid enough no to raid my camera and lenses as well. haha kidding i'd cry a river if they were gone too. it was hard for me to write on my phone (i hate touchscreen with passion), and then there was school and Ramadhan and traditions (i s2g i spent 12hrs cooking curry the day before Eid day omfg do u kno how expansive beef is nowadays??????) and oh oh HAPPY EID MUBARAK GUYS :* :* :*
> 
> ANYWAY. now i'm home and theres PC so hOW CAN I NOT WRITE OH IVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER STARING AT MICROSOFT WORD BLANK DOC.
> 
> this chapter's intro is for Charliechaz (hey dude heyy), im not sure if this is what you asked for tho. sorry if i disappoint. D:   
> but i guess i might as well dedicate this whole chapter to u :3 ur comments are highly inspiring, thank you for being around!! <3333
> 
> i feel like i'm rushing with this chapter, but i began to lost hope a few weeks ago, and it happened. if u asked me, i kinda' like it tho i couldnt help but notice a srsly disturbing pattern on the plot development and cheesiness everywhere geez i hate myself. slam that pie all over my face later, kay? ENJOY~!
> 
> PS: this might sound weird, but is there anyone here who's into Shingeki no Kyojin a.k.a Attack on Titans? (as if i havent got enough wips) im planning to write a riren fic...and need to make friends lol

_From any angle you could see this from, this definitely looks stupid._

_Two fully grown men wrestling with one another and a clueless teenager gawking at them would surely not only look stupid, but also surreal. It looked like something you could get out of a film, a dramatic event occurring in a dramatic setting such as a fountain made of stone in the middle of a busy road in the morning with gothic architecture in the surroundings. I did not know what the hell happened, but those two grown men were fighting. Over me. Which made my face turn impossibly red from such attention—why would they do such a thing over someone like me? This is preposterous!_

_Water splashing all over the road, random coins falling out from the commotion that happened, and people paused whatever they were doing to stop and watch in awe and amusement. This might be amusing for some, confusing for the others, but I have no idea what to feel. For such adults like them to do such a thing…it’s embarrassing!_

_They splashed more water out as they rose and that was the moment when I recognized them. The one wearing white tanktop (even though it’s nearly transparent now that it’s drenching with water) and shredded jeans with shaved head and bloody lips is Karim._

_Karim. Fucking. Benzema._

_What the fuck is that asshole doing here? He really got some nerves! I couldn’t voice out my irritation just as the other figure caught my eyes and my breath._

_It’s Sergio. In one of his (praise the lord) branded white shirt clung onto his torso like a second skin, wrinkled tailored pants showing the exact shape of his (praise the lord) butt, thighs, and—oh god oh god oh yes—his long hair plastered on his cheek and all over his neck. It was impossible not to gulp empty air at the sight of water dripping down his cleanly shaved chin, the crook of his neck, and—oh oh are those nipples on his defined pecs? Oh of course they are. If only he had any idea how much of this view makes me squirm and shortens my breath, everything suddenly feels too uncomfortably tight and hot and…wet. He is wet, not me, don’t take me wrong, I’m not much of a perve—damn, son, look at that butt._

_I was still in awe when Sergio—my Sergio—lurched towards the French asshole and did the thing I’ve always wanted to do (if only I got the nerve to face him again). I think he might have dislocated Karim’s jaw because the punch sent him flying (quite dramatically) out of the fountain and from then on, I glued my eyes back to Sergio—my, mine—who slowly turns to look at me and—praise the lord, thank you for making me this clueless, awkward, gay German teenager—flashed a smile that makes my knees wobble and my dick har-_

_Wait._

_Did I say my d-_

_I felt damp fingers on my cheek and looked up instantly to see that smile only a few inches from my face (seriously, this guy should have used that smile for world peace instead of making a mere boy quiver like hell) and I felt dampness sneaking up my shirt. I released a breathless, surprised whine before he pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine, spending no time to pry me open as I was already a quivering mess before him. Fuck you and your face, sir, fuck you and your hot body and lips and tongue and fingers on my—_

_It gave me a jolt to feel his fingers on my skin, which feels somehow alien and surprising all at once. I unlatched my mouth off his and—oh my merciful god—those fingers really are persistent. I couldn’t even think about people around us anymore, watching a fully-grown adult molesting a minor in public, I couldn’t even bring myself to care about anything else than his hot lips on my earlobe and his fingers on my—_

*

 

“Baby,” Sergio whispered against Mesut’s unsuspecting ear softly, “Mesut.” It was very much uncalled for to hear the younger boy releasing a sort of embarrassing noise out of a whisper and he _actually_ shivered in his sleep. The matador blinked at that and tried to shake him a little (while hoping that no one heard that), “ _Bonbon_ , wake up.”

 

Mesut released another small, needy moan before he turned to his side with his eyes closed and lips parted. The older man stared at him and a grin made its way to his lips at the sight of his boyfriend squirming in his sleep. He appeared not to be troubled, but his breath was short and he kept on humming with his cheeks tinted red…it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on. Again, Sergio leaned in, but this time he captured the boy’s parted mouth with his and he could feel Mesut shook a bit as he gave him a small lick and deepened the kiss.

 

The German was bewildered and opened his eyes a little too quickly to find his boyfriend kissing him, much to his surprise, but the command his brain issued to push the Spaniard off of him seemed to be halted somewhere around his rising basic need, he moaned again and kissed him back languidly. The sensation quickly spread to the tips of his fingers and he just had to touch him, he had to, and he ran his hand over the man’s chest and felt his heat through the thin layer of his polo shirt…

 

_Wait._

 

He slowly (and ashamedly) pulled off, “W-wait.”

 

Sergio grinned ever-so-smugly, “That should be my line.” He chuckled and nuzzled the boy’s pink cheek.

 

“Hn…what…what happened…?” groggily he asked and he felt like to push his boyfriend off him, but, _god_ , could he not kiss him behind the ear like that?

 

“You were sleeping like a log,” the blonde man murmured against the velvety skin, “and we’re landing soon, tried to wake you up but suddenly you made all those noises and that face…” he pulled away only to look into Mesut’s bleary eyes, “I couldn’t help myself.”

 

He thought it was impossible for Mesut to turn even redder, and the boy proved him wrong.

 

*

 

Unlike the trip to Sevilla, Mesut did not spend even a minute to admire the surprisingly simple villa and stomped away on the wooden floor straight to the room Sergio pointed him to. Once he was alone, leaving his boyfriend all confused outside, he took a deep breath and fell limply on the soft, queen-sized bed. He buried his face into the velvety, clean bedcover and inhaled the artificial detergent smell before he rolled over to look at the broken white ceiling. Glancing at his side, he saw swing doors just next to the walk-in closet right next to the bed and a great window on the other side of the room where he could see a wide expanse of deep blue Mediterranean Sea. He had been wondering that he could not spot the beach anywhere near with his current state, yet it sounds so close. And he thought Sergio was being humble for a second. This place looks more and more like some sort of place lovers make their nests in…or worse, some kind of honeymoon suite.

 

He froze. Is that what this is? _Of course it is, dumbass_. He had been waiting for this, hadn’t he? What was with all his silliness this morning, he could not comprehend it himself. That dream felt so real it wrecked his nerves the very second he realized where he was and what he was up to. The heat was only logical enough as a reason for him to keep his boyfriend to fuss over him after they got out from the airport to get a cab, yet he had a feeling that Sergio knew he lied. Of course he knew, he _always_ knows.

 

 _It was unfair_.

 

In the midst of his sulking, the door parted open and Sergio peeked in, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey.”

 

“What…?” Mesut bit back his tongue at the mild annoyance in his voice. It was stupid that he still want to keep the last shred of his dignity intact even though it might had not been there for some time now.

 

Sergio chuckled and invited himself in, dragging along his own luggage and Mesut’s backpack on his shoulder. “You had a wet dream on the plane, so what?” he put away the luggage and the backpack in the closet and turned only to find Mesut stuffing his suspiciously red face into the bed.

 

“Can you _please_ stop that…?” he gave his muffled reply.

 

“How can you be so ashamed over something that is normal for you? You didn’t wet your pants anyway.” the Spaniard sat down on the bed, “There is literally nothing could do to trigger a wet dream, babe, it’s simply something that happens to you regularly.”

 

Mesut turned a look at him and sighed as he pulled himself up, “I just…it felt… _indecent_ , okay?” his red cheeks only got worse, “It’s a public place and I—god, I didn’t even realize I made…noises until you…why didn’t you wake me up in a normal way? You’re the worst!” he hit the matador’s side which caused the older man to giggle.

 

“My, don’t you know that I have a thing for public places?” he nearly broke into laughter at the expression his younger lover made, it was too damn good a chance to tease him.

 

“Y-you’re kidding…” the German sounded nearly frightened if it was not that slight curve in his tone that insinuates curiosity.

 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Sergio decided maybe it was not much of a torture for his boyfriend after all. He changed into a more comfortable position, “It’s exciting.”

 

The boy innocently blinked. He had seen porn where people do it in public places before, there seemed to be some sort of huge demand on that kind of thing which he could not understand, “Aren’t you…afraid of getting caught?” Mesut mumbled silently, but his eyes gleamed in curiosity, Sergio had no idea which one to trust.

 

“That’s the exciting part, babe.” He nearly smirked, “I thought you already know since I’m quite touchy-feely even in public.”

 

“This and that are different.” Mesut pouted.

 

“Anyway,” Sergio down and beckoned him to come closer. Mesut scooted over to lay down and lean onto his heaving chest, “What did you dream about?” the German nearly jumped out of the bed at the question, but Sergio added while wrapping an arm around Mesut’s middle, “Wait, wrong question. _Who_ did you dream about?”

 

“W-what do you care?” Mesut buried his face into his chest; the flashes of the dream and the musky scent of Sergio did not help _at all_.

 

“I’d care very much if it wasn’t me.”

 

“Rest assured then.” The teen shyly mumbled.

 

“Really?” it was an understatement to say that Sergio literally _beamed_ , “What did I do?”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Sergio, please!”

 

“Tut, tut, tut.” He squeezed Mesut’s colored cheek playfully, “I only tease you a little and look what your mouth did.”

 

The younger man slapped his wrist lightly, “Stop doing that…” in contrast of his tone, Mesut leaned in closer and planted a small kiss on his boyfriend’s chin before he gave him a bashful smile. “I think I can’t believe we’re finally…you know…” he drew random figures on his boyfriend’s chest with his finger absent-mindedly.

 

“So do I.” the Spaniard lazily ran his eyes on his lover’s lips and sighed, “It was quite a fight with Sami. I thought he would’ve locked you up or something…”

 

“He’s not that bad, you know. I would’ve done the same thing if my baby bro is dating an older perverted bullfighter.” He grinned.

 

Sergio was staring at his face before he emitted a loud groan and practically squeezed Mesut’s body, reminding his boyfriend for a second that he was, after all, the son of the eager lady back in Sevilla. “Three more days until your birthday.” He chuckled uneasily, “This must be the longest I’ve ever held out.”

 

The German boy threw him an unreadable glance and did not respond. Sergio tried to find his eyes, but Mesut already planted his face back on the bullfighter’s chest, mumbling, “I’m starving.”

 

Smiling, Sergio released him, “I know this good place in town.”

 

*

 

It wasn’t as if Mesut did not enjoy this trip or Sergio’s gentle-as-ever advances whenever he could proceed to do some. It was sort of electrifying, the good food, the cool atmosphere, and those simple, often absent-minded touches all over his skin. So electrifying now that he knew not even Sami could stop them, the images of his cousins scarcely occupied his mind the more he let himself to succumb with whatever presented for him. It was something he had never thought would occur to him, ever. A lover’s sweet touches and glass of a real good wine was something that he would never thought to have this early. His dad sometimes allowed him to have a sip or two on big days, but he never remembered it to be this intoxicating.

 

He tried his best ignoring Sergio’s curious eyes as they walked hand-in-hand; he decided to call it a rare treat since it rarely happened in Madrid, but here it might not be so. Perhaps he had always been the one who eagerly wished this sort of romantic escapade to happen, to leave the world just for the two of them, yet a small part of him nearly could not take this apparently-too-good-to-be-true experience. It was hard to miss the look on his eyes and every single flinch he made whenever Sergio’s fingers strayed on the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair or the low of his hips where he’d not-too-subtly sneak them under his shirt, sometimes dragging his blunt nails gently on his sensitive skin while his eyes would mind the street or some flashy clubs they happen to walk by until they tried to search for something in Mesut’s barely poker face. He did not say anything about it, but the younger man knew he could sense something was not right.

 

“Do you want to get some stuff before we get back or…?”

 

“Huh? Oh,” the boy nervously mumbled. He was quite animated during dinner it must be weird that he was now so quiet, “I don’t know, do you?”

 

“Not really. Do you wanna’ go back now…?” the blonde man left a gap for suggestion by the end of his question, prompting Mesut to think up “ _and do what?_ ” which he felt a bit too stupid to ask.

 

He had all the time to persuade his boyfriend to forget about the age bullshit, to convince him that it was okay, it would be alright. He had seen Sergio snapped once, he would not say it outloud, but it was hard to miss the tremble of the Spaniard’s large hand on him as he pushed him down the last time. Even the strongest man had his limits, Mesut had actually fantasized different results he might’ve got if he were to fight against that hand and move to his own advances. No matter how that idea brought him to the edge countless times (he was a teenager, in his defense), none of his fantasies felt quite right. He wanted to see the real thing, feel it firsthand, but now…

 

“I…what about the clubs?” he tried his best to smile, “I heard it’s quite crazy here, why don’t we try some?”

 

Sergio blinked and smiled back, uneasily, “S-sure. Aren’t you tired, though?”

 

“Just for a bit?” Mesut gave him his puppy eyes and he knew there was no way to escape that.

 

*

 

After what seemed to be one of the most boring eternity, Mesut finally managed to slip away from Sergio who was talking with the bartender of the unbelievably noisy club (he didn’t even know how they managed to understand each other) after a shout of “go straight outside I’ll catch up”. He managed to get out of the crowded club; it was just like what he heard, loud and raunchy. It would’ve been appealing if he wasn’t nursing the thought that had been lingering in his head since that godforsaken dream. At least it would be alright; seeing that Sergio at least enjoyed himself, he might be too tired for Mesut to even think about doing…things. Things that are harder than it seemed only a few hours ago. He could not help but sigh the moment he walked outside on the empty pavement and squatted down with his back against the wall.

 

He would be doomed if he could not get himself ready.

 

“Kid, are you lost?”

 

Mesut looked up to find a brown-haired young man hovering above him, his brown eyes observed him in a worried manner. The German paused for a while upon seeing his face, was he a model or something? He definitely looked like someone you would find on the cover of some hip fashion magazine wearing branded clothing. He looked pretty even with those freckles on his cheeks and the pink of his lips. _What a looker_ , he internally noted before he realized he was staring.

 

“No, I’m-“ he abruptly got up—the guy was still towering him, it was horrible if there wasn’t any modeling agency that recruited him. “I’m not…lost.” He chewed his lower lip, “Uh…my boyfriend is inside. I don’t feel like staying in there.”

 

“Oh,” the taller man glanced inside and back to the boy, “well, it’s late and it’s not really wise to wander out here alone. I’ll accompany you here until your boyfriend pick you up, okay?” he moved to Mesut’s side with a grin and squatted down against the wall.

 

“Wh-no, it’s okay!”

 

“My boyfriend is at that convenience store one block away, it’s cool, really.” His eyes gleamed with mirth as he added, “You look too young to be around here unsupervised, anyway. You don’t want to deal with perverts, don’t you?”

 

Blushing, Mesut squatted back down next to him, “T-thanks.”

 

“It’s cool.” The guy fished a pack of cigarette out of his pocket and lit up one. He caught Mesut’s curious eyes on him and offered the pack, “You want one?”

 

“I’m not…” the boy cleared his throat, “No.”

 

“What, you’re scared it’d stunt your growth or something?” the other man snickered, “Relax, you look kinda’ troubled. Sometimes this thing helps.” He shoved the whole pack to Mesut’s lap, much to the smaller boy’s surprise.

 

“N-no, I really don’t smoke…” he grabbed the pack, eyeing the unfamiliar brand on it (might be a local brand), “And if my boyfriend saw me, he’d bitch about it endlessly.” He added with a near groan, sometimes Sergio could remember to act his age and it was annoying. Nearly as annoying as Sami, actually.

 

“You’re dating a daddy? Wow,” the pale boy chuckled as he exhales some smoke, “boys nowadays sure knows how to handle it.”

 

“I’m not!” Mesut sounded a little too defensive to be believable, he realized that, “It’s not…it’s just…well…he’s older and everything…”

 

The other boy puffed some more smoke, “Older guys could be real problem. I’ve been there, kid.” He sighed, “I don’t think it’s for me, but you good luck with that.”

 

The German stared at the brown-haired man momentarily before he looked down to the ground. He was not the kind who talks about personal stuffs to a stranger, but there was something _compelling_ about this guy. He seemed rather honest, if not blunt, and he had a nice vibe about him. Not to mention that he did mention that he is experienced, being a stranger is a bonus after all. It wasn’t as if they’d ever meet again.

 

“Say…” he mumbled nervously, “…is the first time always…scary?”

 

There was no reply, but Mesut looked at the other man upon hearing a choked noise followed by series of cough. The man’s cheeks reddened from the lack of air and the pain in his throat, but he managed to look at the smaller one, “You…haven’t…?”

 

Blushing deeper, Mesut shook his head.

 

“Oh. Wow.” The man turned his eyes to the street at the same time a shady black Mercedes passed by, “I owe you an apology then, I thought you were…uh…” he shook his head, actually looked sincerely embarrassed, “Never mind that. And to answer your question, no, it’s not always like that. I wasn’t the kind who waits and actually think over something trivial like that, so it just happened. That’s all.” he sighed with a small shrug. “So…you’re, like, you’re both waiting…?”

 

Bashfully, Mesut nodded. “I don’t think it’s hard for him. I mean, it’s not his first time and…well…it makes me feel anxious that…that I might be the only one who is eager for it,” He buried his face into his crossed arms, “or the only one who’s a little too eager for it.”

 

The brown-haired man scratched the tip of his nose absent-mindedly. “Well…I can’t say I know how that feels, but if you both are waiting, it sounds like you’re in a serious relationship.” He blushed a little, “I don’t know if it helps, but I’m in one right now. Our first time together was…it was rushed. I just don’t want to feel such anxiety you experience when you’re expecting something…I don’t like it, but I think I did freak out a little bit because I know actual feelings are involved.” He muttered shyly.

 

“Then…how did you deal with it?”

 

The taller man laughed, “I was young and stupid, it turned out that I don’t have to do anything at all.” he turned to his companion with a friendly smile, “It’s cheesy, but if it’s meant to be, you don’t actually need to plan or think about anything, and trust me it’ll feel _good_.” He winked.

 

Mesut was a bit taken aback. Maybe it was the right thing to ask after all, maybe it was good for him. This guy here was really nice, maybe it wasn’t too late for him to ask his name—

 

“Mesut, there you are!” The boy looked behind his companion to find Sergio walking towards them, “I’m sorry I was carried away, I was looking for you and-“

 

Sergio halted at the same time Mesut’s newfound friend turned to look at him, the color drained from his face very quickly much to the German’s bewilderment. Looking back at his lover, he could see the same thing happened to his as well and he started to worry. Did they know each other? Why was Sergio looking at him like that, he looked as if he saw a ghost; a very terrible one. It was nearly comical, yet the situation proceeded quite briefly and before he could try anything, his companion abruptly got up to his feet and strolled off, crossing the road without even glancing back. Mesut followed his suit, but he was more worried about the look on Sergio’s pale face and dark eyes…he had never seen him like that. _What the hell just happened?_

 

“Sese…?” he tried, “Sese…you’re okay?” he touched his boyfriend’s arm gently, trying not to surprise him. Suddenly Sergio grabbed the boy’s shoulders a bit harshly, nothing like he had ever done before and it made Mesut wince.

 

“M-Mesut…did he do anything or say anything…weird?”

 

“No, we were just talking…” the boy could not help but to grit his teeth as Sergio gripped him harder. It wasn’t that painful, he could take it, but why was Sergio reacting like that?

 

Getting a better grip on his composure, Sergio released him and wrapped his arms around him instead. Mesut could feel questions bouncing on the tip of his tongue to be let out, but he knew better than to do so and let his lover to hug him. It was a different kind of hug, it was neither the hug he usually gave to keep the younger man in place or to feel him, _no_. Sergio was actually trembling and it felt like he needs a support more than anything at that exact moment, so Mesut slid a hand on his back and gently patted him.

 

“You’ll talk to me, right, baby? You’ll talk to me when we get home?” he mustered all his patience and suppressed his anxiety and curiosity with all his might. He felt Sergio nodding against his shoulder and it calmed him a little bit. At least he was listening. “How about going home now, love?”

 

Another nod.

 

*


End file.
